


Tales of Atlantis

by KD writes (KDHeart), xyzmary2001



Series: Tales of Atlantis [1]
Category: Stargate - All Series, Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Action/Adventure, Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bodyswap, Character Development, Coburn survived his time with SG2 because KD says so, Complicated relationship dynamics, Crack, Developing Relationship, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fictional characters writing in-universe RPF, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Genre Savvy, Gratuitous Hypothermia chapter, Hurt/Comfort, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, KD might have gone overboard with the tagging, Lampshade Hanging, Mentions of Cancer, Mind Control, Mind/Mood Altering Substances, Past Rape/Non-con, Psychological Torture, Rodney's Citrus Allergy, Romance, Some chapters are angsty as fuck, Some chapters are pure crack, Tags Contain Spoilers, The Grammar Nazi Slave-driving Dominatrix is running this show, Torture, UST, Unconventional Weapons, We play Russian Roulette with your feelings, and not all the time, as well as ours, beware of alien tea, chapter-specific tags, episodic, everyone ends up on Atlantis, everyone's a little suicidal, in a heroic way, mentions of past rape, no one you know of dies, not all tags apply to the whole fic, some characters keep coming back from the dead, the tags can't keep up with the plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-30
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2017-11-06 08:20:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 127,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/416728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KDHeart/pseuds/KD%20writes, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xyzmary2001/pseuds/xyzmary2001
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They really tried their best to avoid it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Episode 1: Experiment

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** Updates irregularly, great shifts in mood and genre between chapters, chapters can be read as standalones unless otherwise specified. Mentions of past rape in a character's backstory.
> 
>  **Disclaimer for the entire story:** We do not own Stargate: Atlantis, Stargate SG1 or any of the characters associated with the shows. They belong to the MGM and their respective creator. We only own a handful of OCs that may or may not show up from the first chapter. Catherine Spencer belongs to xyzmary2001 (aka the OCD slave-driving, grammar Nazi dominatrix) and KD_Heart takes responsibility for all the bad puns. 
> 
> **Authors’ Note:** This is a long story. I'm not just talking about the fan fic here. We've been writing this for ages now (since 2010, actually) and Mary will occasionally go back and edit/re-write parts of it. It's planned for about 24 chapters and will crossover with a lot of other shows by the time we're done with it. Feedback is welcomed and encouraged (even if you only comment to tell us that we've missed a comma).
> 
> Enjoy.

**Tales of Atlantis**

**Episode 1: Experiment**

Carson Beckett had died in an exploding tumour incident five months before and left the Atlantis expedition one man short. It had been one of the most disturbing things the crew had ever encountered and it had understandably created an atmosphere of mistrust and worry. And whispers in certain corners that they should have just _stayed home_. Or should leave. Or something.

So when Doctor Catherine Spencer arrived nobody was in the mood to throw her a welcome party. Or to trust her. Or to generally give a damn. She'd been quickly dismissed and sent off to her new and endless administrative duties.

Even after five months she still didn't really feel that she belonged, so she trudged on through her duties, reminding herself that she was there because Carson would have wanted her to be there. That being part of this team of pioneers was an honour. That Carson had held the post and if it was good enough for him, she would simply have to try harder to fill in the shoes of her mentor. He had trusted her to perform her first surgery at the age of 17, she would prove worthy of that trust now.

 _"You can be brilliant, Catherine. The best surgeon I've ever seen,"_ he had told her a few days after that surgery. They were in the small cafeteria of the hospital and she was so exhausted she could sleep on the table. " _But your skills alone are not enough to get you there, luv."_ His honest, blue eyes pierced her and she remembered feeling she wasn't up to any pep talk right then. _"By pretending not to feel for the patients you save, you're lying to yourself. Our emotions make us human and we cannot reach perfection by suppressing such feelings or, in your case, by simply denying they exist. Trust me, lass, you may act like one of the robot professors you studied under at University, but you're not one of them. They teach for a reason. The sooner you accept that, the better."_

Almost thrown over the table in tiredness, she'd wanted to tell him he was wrong. She cared. She just couldn't make a show of it. But she was tired and she was proud, so she didn't say a word. Carson left the hospital soon after. She'd moved on, gotten a researcher's job in a fancy, government-funded lab and thought she was doing the best to help herself and humanity by trying to find the cure for cancer. For a while she fit in, joked, had coffee, cursed the military for having most of the resources money could offer and all that.

Carson knew all that. But somehow she had been the first person he'd suggested as a successor. At the time she'd accepted the job, pleased and confused that he'd thought of _her_.

After five months in Atlantis, Catherine was no longer sure _why_ she had accepted the job. It could have been pride, or it could have been sense of duty. Whatever it had been, she'd had enough time to regret it. How could she have said 'yes' when she was just as conscientious as Carson that her skills were best served in a lab? Her last few weeks in Atlantis only confirmed what he'd tried to tell her – she wasn't a people person. Now, there was nothing she wished for more than to be back in her lab on Earth, surrounded by all the familiar equipment that had never caused her trouble. After all, it was a lot harder to work with people than with test tubes and viral samples.

"Doctor Weir!" The leader of the expedition continued down the corridor as if she hadn't heard Catherine calling. Refusing to give up, Catherine rushed after the other woman. "Please, Doctor Weir…" It seemed no one had any time to listen to her. Ever. ‘ _Story of my life_.’ "Can you wait for a moment? I need to talk to you."

Doctor Elizabeth Weir stopped and turned slowly, letting out a long sigh. "Doctor Spencer, how can I help you?"

"I wanted to talk to you about my position." Catherine took a deep breath. "I need to be replaced, as soon as possible."

"Excuse me?" Doctor Weir looked vaguely amused, but mostly tired. "We've already discussed this, Doctor Spencer." Doctor Weir started walking again and Catherine had no choice but to follow. "You are Carson's choice. He requested you specifically, even before..." Doctor Weir swallowed visibly. "From what I understand, you were his best student and he considered you a genius."

"I know that." Catherine's voice seemed to soften a little bit, but her face remained calm and composed - almost expressionless.

"Besides, Doctor Jackson recommended you as well, and he's known you most of your life," Doctor Weir continued. "I trust his judgment implicitly."

"Still, I only said 'yes' because someone with clearance had to come here and do the job," Catherine insisted. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad to be of assistance, but I really don't have enough experience to run a department of this size. You need someone... older. And I need to return to my cancer research."

Doctor Weir stopped in front of the transporter; the door swished open and she stepped on. "But everyone says you're doing a great job."

Of course, Catherine had no doubt that she was. Doctor Weir would have sent her back to Earth with the kawoosh of a wormhole if things were otherwise. Sadly, she wasn't eager to leave due to lack of competence.

Elizabeth stepped inside the transporter and Catherine followed. "Thank you. I've actually had very few patients lately. Which I'm taking as a show of good fortune rather than-"

"Well, all I can tell you right now is that the IOA is reviewing candidates, but making quick decisions isn't exactly their strong suit."

"Even with my strict contract guidelines?" Catherine had hoped that would give her an edge toward a gate trip home.

Doctor Weir shook her head and smiled. "Not a problem for them."

Catherine took a deep breath. "How long will it take? A week? Two, maybe?" The transporter doors opened up to the corridor a few steps from the control room.

"Might be a week. Might be two months. Don't worry, you are doing fine and it's quite normal to feel anxious. We all felt the same way our first few months. Who knows, maybe you'll find something out here to help you with your research. Stay positive." With another reassuring smile, Doctor Weir entered the control room without a look back.

"Thank you, Doctor Weir," Catherine said to the empty space. Her usually straight shoulders drooped and, with a dejected sigh, Catherine turned around and nearly bounced off the chest of the last person she needed to see.

Colonel John Sheppard.

o0o0o

"I'm just saying, Rodney, you didn't have to go into so much detail. It goes right over my head."

Doctor Rodney McKay, lead expedition scientist as well as a royal pain in the ass rolled his eyes at the city's commanding officer. "I was just making sure _some_ of the information actually stays between your ears," McKay insisted. "You must have comprehended some of my explanations, no matter how distracting the company might have been," he finished with an annoyed huff.

"She wasn't-" John stopped as Doctor Catherine Spencer suddenly turned around and nearly plowed into him. He never got over how young she looked. What was she like 16 or something? With her stick thin figure and childlike face, it was hard enough to believe she was a medical doctor, let alone the owner of a couple of impressive PhD's. Her brain was probably bigger than McKay's, not that Rodney would have ever admitted such blasphemy.

John smiled. "Hi, Doc."

Her blue eyes widened, pupils dilating slightly, and her lips puffed open in a gasp of surprise. A second later, those innocent eyes narrowed into slits and her nose wrinkled as if she smelled something rotten. John supposed he could use a shower after scouting around the musty city most of the day, but he couldn't smell _that_ bad.

"Colonel," she said coolly, brushing between him and McKay.

The chill in her voice wasn't new to him, but he still couldn't figure it out. "What did I say this time?" he whispered to McKay. If he didn't know better, he'd swear she was his ex-wife in disguise, welcoming him home after one of his secret missions in Afghanistan that she'd loved so much.

"Did I just see what I just saw?" McKay asked back. "John "Captain Kirk" Sheppard getting the brush off?"

John glared at McKay. "Oh, I don't mind her, she's just a teen. Who can understand teenagers anyway? Besides, I've heard she's like having a female you for a doctor."

Rodney patted him on the shoulder, an unnerving smile tilting his lips. "Normally, I would give you a proper retort to that, but you're becoming an expert at digging yourself in recently." He lifted his chin pointedly past John.

Already feeling the kick in the gut, John dutifully glanced over his shoulder at Doctor Spencer, standing not ten feet away and measuring him from head to toe with an icy smile on her lips. As their eyes met, her gaze shifted rapidly to McKay and she granted him the most brilliant and charming smile John had seen to date. She even had dimples and, as usual, he felt like a paedophile for finding her strangely attractive.

Completely oblivious to his moral distress, the young doctor casually strolled back over to them. "You might be right, Colonel. If what you meant to say is that, despite being a teenager, I am as brilliant a physician as Doctor McKay is a scientist."

Her smile widened into a beguiling, genuinely seductive expression. Something she was far too young to know how to use, let alone deploy on an inexperienced man like McKay. "And that my touch, while professional, leaves a lingering effect on the unsuspecting."

Now, she didn't look like a teenager anymore and for some reason, this "new Catherine" annoyed him even more than the teenage one. On the bright side, her sudden metamorphosis allowed him to run his eyes over her without feeling like a corruptor of minors.

"Doctor McKay, looks like we have a lot of things in common," she purred.

"Colonel Sheppard, Doctor McKay," Elizabeth called. "My office. Major Lorne is back." Her voice was as calm and composed as ever, but John felt a hint of anxiety hovering underneath.

"You should go see what's going on," Catherine continued, touching Rodney's hand. "They probably need that big brain of yours."

John raised his eyebrow, glancing from the young, devilish genius, to the much older, less mature one. Somehow, McKay had established himself as one of the very few people on Atlantis to whom the new doctor was not only civil, but... _nice_. The even stranger part was that McKay wasn't trying to compete with or outshine her. He certainly wasn't trying to flirt with her either. Not that McKay knew how to flirt. Catherine, on the other hand...

"You know where to find me," she added. "In case you need something, _anything_." The young woman gave McKay one last sultry, seductive smile and walked away.

O…K... So Catherine was definitely flirting. Either that or she was suddenly Doctor Jekyll _and_ Misses Hyde but, in her case, Misses Hyde was the sweet one, only coming out to play with the likes of… Rodney? John shook his head. None of this made any sense. It was worrying how this strange bond of the two had left him in the cold and made him a handy target of their combined taunts and jabs.

"Come on, Lover-boy." He pulled McKay down the corridor. "Duty calls," he added, tugging the scientist towards Elizabeth's office. "You can catch up with her later."

"Lover-boy?" McKay groaned indignantly. "Mister Unoriginal, you just couldn't find anything better, could you?" The lack of originality seamed to insult him more than the uninspired nick-name.

McKay jerked his arm free of John's grasp as they entered the control room, ranting about him being raised by cavemen. Elizabeth glanced at them, the usually tolerant and even indulgent gleam, suggesting that she deals with two 12 year-old boys, missing from her eyes. John had noted tension in her voice the past few weeks and, as he followed her into the office, he didn't expect cake and party hats.

Completely oblivious to her dark mood, Rodney didn't even wait for Elizabeth to close the door to start justifying himself. "I was just... We met Doctor Spencer in the hallway and..."

"McKay!" John snapped quietly and for once Rodney shut up, his gaze locking onto Elizabeth as well.

The meeting had started without them, as John noted Teyla standing off to the side of the desk. Silently, Elizabeth sat behind it, templing her fingers in that scholarly way she did. One step behind her, Major Lorne seemed to avoid looking them in the eye and, as he finally raised his head, his gaze sent chills down John's spine. "Colonel."

"Major," John nodded in aknowledgment.

Lorne's unease was palpable, sadness and anxiety radiating from him in waves. "I take it the visit to MH6 - 98U didn't go well?"

Lorne's gaze dropped. "No, sir."

Teyla sighed. "It was not a downed transmitter as we had hoped."

"It seems," Elizabeth started, "that the villagers are sick and something or _someone_ has… attacked the planet."

"Wraith?" McKay asked.

"They weren't culled," Elizabeth stated. She licked her lips and shook her head. "That is the only thing we can be sure of. But the survivors have yet to explain what happened. The raids took place at night and they were meant to kill."

John felt his skin tighten, readying for a fight. "How many?"

Lorne bit his bottom lip. His eyes met his commander's again. "They were 1000 people strong, sir. Now…" he shook his head. "Maybe a few dozen. All sick with what looks like a bad case of flu."

Elizabeth got up and rounded her desk, joining John and Rodney at the window, over-looking the Gate Room.

"This isn't their modus operandi," Rodney finally broke the silence. "They attack humans because they feed on them, not because they-"

"I know." Elizabeth nodded. "That's why I want your team to go check this out, with all the medical staff we can spare. See if there is any trace of Wraith activity in the area. And Rodney, see what you can do about that disaffected shield mentioned in the report. Whatever hit them, it might prove to be a threat to us as well." She hesitated a moment, then turned to the colonel. "John, we can't know how contagious the disease is or if the attacks will happen again tonight so, please, be careful."

Rodney raised a hand tentatively, using the other one to nervously scratch the back of his head. "Are you sure you need me along? It's just that I have this terrible allergy to contagious diseases of the alien kind."

John nodded, completely ignoring Rodney's attempt to weasel out. It had been _so_ quiet lately. It was bound something like this would come up. "Rodney, Teyla, radio Ronon and get him suited up. I'll meet you at the Gate."

"Colonel?" Teyla raised her brows.

John sighed. "I have to alert the medical personnel that they are going off-world."

"Can't you just radio…?" Rodney started, but John cocked his head and raised his right brow. McKay seemed to get it in one. "Ahhh… well… Good luck with that then."

John made a face as he headed out the door. He really would have preferred cake and party hats at least once.

o0o0o

John's legs forced him toward the infirmary, but his mind and heart really weren't keeping the pace due to the task at hand. Doctor Spencer's loathing for off world travel was known throughout Atlantis. As good as she was in her field, it was almost impossible to get her out of the infirmary and take her in _the_ field. The princess preferred her sterile tower to grunt work.

She was also rumoured to have a collection of allergies more diverse and abundant than McKay's and Daniel Jackson's put together. In fact, it was amazing she was still alive with so many allergies; she should be living in a plastic bubble. Though, John suspected she spread that rumour herself to have a better excuse to stay behind. She seemed spoiled enough to pull it off.

She also seemed to walk very slowly, since John managed to catch up with her before she made it back to the infirmary, although he hadn't exactly been running.

" Doctor Spencer, we need to go to MH6 - 98U. The villagers there were attacked and the survivors seem to have caught a very bad form of flu. Prepare a medical team ASAP and get ready for departure in 20 minutes," he informed her.

She stopped in her tracks, slowly turned on her toes and stared at him with rather large eyes. After a short, startled pause, she nodded professionally.

"I'll tell Doctor Johannes and Doctor Moore to prepare their medical kits immediately. They'll be in the Gate Room in fifteen." This being said, she turned back and entered the left corridor, continuing on her way.

John rushed forward, cutting her off. "Um, Doc. You too. You're on the team this time."

When she stopped again, her feet skidded on the floor as if breaking quickly, and looked at him. The grimace on her childish features would have been amusing if it wasn't for the complete adult disdain in her eyes.

"I don't recall saying anything about myself, Colonel Sheppard." Her gaze dropped as quickly as it had latched onto his. "As you undoubtedly know, I am here only because the IOA hasn't found a permanent replacement for Doctor Beckett." Her eyes darted around the corridor as her voice rose to an icy shrill level. "I have no intention of going off world anytime soon, and there is a special clause in my contract exonerating me from this type of duty."

As a matter of fact, Elizabeth had told him about the special clause that had raised all sorts of eyebrows, both military and civilian. The appointment of Doctor Spencer as leader of the medical team of the expedition, despite her absurd whims, spoke of either the intervention of her friends from the SGC or of her actual superior medical expertise. John didn't give a rat's ass which side of the fence the blame fell on. The fact remained - she was _the_ doctor. He didn't care about her allergies or phobias. Doctors went where they were needed. Carson knew that, she was yet to find out.

"I'm ready to fulfil all my duties. Please, transport all the patients here and I will gladly do whatever is necessary… in Atlantis." The way she kept looking away from him was starting to get on his nerves. She didn't even have the decency to look him in the eyes as she turned her back on the injured and dying.

To hell with that!

"Doc, I'm gonna say this once. There are dozens of people in need of all the medical attention we can provide. Most might not even make it to the Gate. You _will_ be joining us and you _will_ be doing it without further comment." She wanted to say something and John raised his finger, pointedly. "I'll even toss you over my shoulder and carry you through the Gate if I have to. Is that clear?"

This time, it seemed that he'd managed to stun her speechless. Her wide blue eyes finally locked onto his and her face turned bright red. John flashed his patented half-smile that always got Elizabeth to agree with him. "See you in fifteen."

He was halfway down the corridor when Catherine found her voice again. "You have no right to give me orders, Colonel! I am still a member of the civilian personnel and I have _no_ obligation to follow your commands. Please limit yourself to giving orders to your military subordinates."

"Doctor Spencer, if it's those pesky allergies you're worried about… grab an extra Epi-pen. You're coming with us."

"You are losing time arguing, Colonel, and you should get going. I'll send the medical team and I will wait here for my patients. If the situation is as dire as you believe, I suggest you to take several puddle jumpers and transport them back here, where we have all the medical equipment we might need." She turned and strutted away.

John could only stand there watching her go. As much as he wanted to see her face when he'd threw her over his shoulder, his back wasn't really up for it. No doubts, she was the most infuriating person he had the misfortune to work with.

"Why exactly are you here?" he called when she was a few good steps away from the infirmary doors. "Did you misread the part about space travel? Another galaxy. Other planets. The adventure of a lifetime?" He took a few steps closer to her. "You weren't underage drinking and just skimmed that part, were you?"

Doctor Spencer had stopped when he spoke, but she kept her back to him. Any mention of her young age always seemed to get her goat. This time, however, she didn't rise to the bait. Perhaps it was the press for time as she pointed out, or the subject matter.

"I am here because Doctor Beckett recommended me."

Carson's loss was still a sore spot with most everyone on Atlantis. However, the softness in Spencer's voice when she mentioned Carson caught him of guard. "Why?"

She shrugged. "I have no idea why he did such a thing." She shook her head and her shoulders drooped ever so slightly. "I stopped asking myself. I'll never find out anyway." With a deep breath, she abruptly changed the subject. "Colonel, I suggest you read my contract again. I cannot be forced to leave Atlantis. I accepted the job only under this condition. You will _not_ carry me anywhere." She took another deep breath and entered in the infirmary, her feet shuffling as if they wouldn't hold her up much longer.

John was sure that, if he had blinked, he would have missed that little fumble in her step. The chink in the princess's armour wasn't ego after all… it was fear, plain and simple. The little girl was scared. Fine. He didn't need to play babysitter when people were dying. "Whatever. Your team has ten minutes now. Make it snappy, Doc. Clearly, they'll be far more help without you holding them back."

John hit the nearest transporter and headed for the gear-up room. He'd wasted enough time, after all. There were more important things to take care of than a little doctor that couldn't accept the reality of her duties. Ronon, Teyla and McKay were probably already in the Gate Room, waiting for him.

And the people of MH6-98U had waited for help long enough.

o0o0o

John had been right; Teyla and Ronon were ready and waiting in the Gate Room as he came in strapping on his P-90. He looked up at the control tower where McKay was tinkering with God–knows what on his tablet and on one of the many consoles. John checked his watch: the med team had five minutes left.

McKay trotted down the main staircase, barely raising his gaze from the tablet's screen. "I see you're still alive, Colonel. Did you actually chat with the lovely doctor, or chickened out at the last minute, sure she'd attack you with the big needles?"

"Stuff it, Rodney."

"Doctor Spencer is not joining us?" Teyla wanted to know.

John shook his head. "She's sending her best medics and setting up the infirmary for the heavy wounded."

"Sounds best," Ronon said. At Teyla's side look he added, "I mean, she's not a team…player."

John chuckled lightly. "Look who's talking."

"Hey!" Ronon swivelled his gun several times. "You wanna play?"

"Focus, gentlemen," Elizabeth called from her post at the rail upstairs.

John glanced up at her, nodding apologetically. Elizabeth couldn't always stomach the banter that he, Ronon, McKay and even Teyla used to temper what they had to deal with on away missions. Elizabeth's civilian and civilized brain tended to strain with the emotion of any given situation.

"She does realize how serious the situation is, does she not?" Teyla asked.

"Yep," John said. "But she refuses to go. Can't force her. Can't carry her over my shoulder through the Gate either." Even though that was exactly what he had threatened. Maybe he could get Ronon to do it.

"Well, we could have used her," McKay said. "I've been going through the data again and it doesn't look too promising. The symptoms of that flu are rather strange."

"Aww, darn. I wish I could have told her that too. She would have slammed the door even harder in my face," John glowered at McKay.

"She slammed the door…"

"Verbally speaking. She has a "no off-world travel" clause in her contract."

"Seriously?" McKay's voice pitched up.

"Why?" Ronon asked.

John nodded to McKay and shrugged at Ronon.

McKay grumbled. "Wish I could have thought of that before coming here."

"Right, 'cause, at the time we came through the wormhole from Earth, that was really an option."

"Not after you woke up the Wraith and forced me onto your team," McKay said with a smirk, knowing how much John hated to be reminded of that glitch on his first mission into enemy territory.

"If I shoot him now, will Doctor Weir get mad?" Ronon asked.

John glanced up at Elizabeth, still standing on her little deck, arms crossed, talking to Chuck the technician, probably about the upcoming mission. She didn't look remotely relaxed. She needed a massage and a good-night's sleep. "Wait until we get off-world. Then shoot away," John told Ronon.

"Fine by me."

"Wait…" McKay looked up from his tablet. "What?"

Teyla rolled her eyes at her team mates.

o0o0o

"I know that, John," Elizabeth Weir was saying. "I just wish you could have convinced her. Doctor Moore is an Emergency Medical Specialist and Doctor Johannes a strong surgeon, but Doctor Spencer is all that plus the best virologist we have. We needed her on this team, but I guess it can't be helped." The leader of the Atlantis expedition had joined them downstairs a few minutes ago, as they waited for the med team to arrive. It was taking longer than the promised fifteen minutes.

"Hey, I tried my best. Even gave the old smile a go." That at least got Elizabeth to smile a little. "You and the IOA are at fault with that whole ‘no off-world travel’ thing, not me, you know."

Elizabeth sighed and rolled her eyes guiltily. "I understand, but we didn't have much of a choice. She was by far the most qualified person for this position and she refused to join us otherwise. Not that I can blame her for that."

John eyed her questioningly, but Elizabeth didn't seem willing to enter into much detail, so he decided to save the subject for later. Besides, if there was any serious reason behind Doctor Spencer's refusal to travel off-world, he should find it by reading her file. Probably he should have done that a long time ago, but he had been just too busy to read the files of the civilian personnel.

It was late, so he gazed at his watch a third time, then clicked his earpiece. "Sheppard to the infirmary. Doctor Johannes, Doctor Moore, what's your ETA?"

"So sorry for the wait, Colonel Sheppard," Doctor Spencer said haughtily as she led the full medical team into the Gate Room. "We needed an extra minute to secure more equipment for the viral studies."

John glanced at McKay who was grinning at the young doctor, then at Elizabeth, whose brows arched in the same amazement that had his jaw dragging on the floor.

"We are ready to go," she nodded sheepishly at him, doing her best to avoid his eyes at all cost. She looked pale and a bit shaky, but he could definitely see something else in that steely spine of hers. Determination, maybe? Something had definitely pushed her into joining them. Something that had mightily pissed her off, but had gotten her ass in gear nonetheless.

Something he'd said. Hmm, if he could only figure out what it was and save it for later use. With a shrug, he wound his fist in the air at Chuck, indicating the tech to dial up the gate. Everyone stepped back as the chevrons started to click into place.

"He actually talked you into this?" McKay had a hard time hiding his surprise. "Not that I'm complaining, we can use all the help we can get, but-"

His comment was stopped by a sharp elbow to the ribs. "What Rodney here is trying to say is we are very glad you decided to join the mission." Teyla bowed her head respectfully.

"Actually, Colonel Sheppard had nothing to do with my decision," Catherine said hurriedly, as if she did not want to leave any doubt. "I'm glad you're coming as well, Rodney. Makes me feel safer," she added with a smile. After a moment, she nodded to the others:

"Ronon, Teyla..."

The young doctor greeted Teyla with a similar bow of her head then looked at the Gate as the event horizon came rushing out at them.

"First time outside Atlantis, Doctor?" Ronon asked.

"Yes. I'm more of a lab technician than an explorer."

"It's not as bad as you might have heard," Ronon said in his usual guttural tone.

That was the longest sentence John had heard the guy say all week. What was it about this woman and his male teammates?

"Besides…" Ronon continued. "Like you said… _McKay_ will be there to protect you."

"What… I will?" McKay glanced around then nervously grinned at the young doctor. "I mean… I _will_."

"Try again with a little less hysteria, Rodney," John muttered. "She might buy it if you don't sound like a scared little girl."

The 'scared little girl' quip obvious ruffled Doctor Spencer's delicate feathers, given the fiery gaze she shot at him before quickly glancing down at the heavy-looking kit in her hand. Trying to soften it with a charming smile, John reached for her kit. "Do you need help with that?"

"No, thank you. Besides, you've got that big gun weighing you down, Colonel. Wouldn't want to put you out, would I," she snapped back, still avoiding his gaze.

John put up both hands and backed off, shrugging innocently. He wasn't going to start arguing again, once was more than enough for a day. This also applied to not making any more comments about the attention the young doctor showed toward McKay. That took a bit more self-restraint. Still, Elizabeth's vague amusement reminded him he didn't have to worry about Rodney. He'd turn things against himself sooner or later.

In front of them, the event horizon shimmered, waiting for their departure.

"Since my job is, as you pointed out, to protect the civilians, it prevents me from being a gentleman and letting the ladies go first. Rodney, you too." He walked ahead, signalling his team to follow in formation.

"Hey! That was really uncalled for!" Rodney protested, though John was sure McKay was happy not to be the first through the Gate.

o0o0o

Catherine stepped through the Gate and entered a whole new world: a shining, green world, full of glossy, knee high grass and giant, leafy trees. The ancient kind of trees with enormous trunks rooted in moist ground tunnelling for nutrients. Gnarly brown and grey bark with thick, twisted branches that grow in all directions, reaching like arms toward the sky in search of sunlight. Strangely shaped leaves drifted slowly on the gentle breeze, swishing in a deceivingly relaxed chant as if passing secrets between themselves. Yellow, red and purple flowers caressed the travellers pant legs, leaving tell-tale markings of their journey into the unknown. It wasn't a jungle exactly, but it was the closest thing Catherine could imagine an alien one being.

An unpleasant tingle tickled up from the base of her spine and settled at the back of her neck, lifting the short hairs and making her shiver with a disturbing dread. It was too coloured, too peaceful, too beautiful, too... _perfect_. And it reminded her too much of her very first travel through the Gate – and its outcome. Especially the outcome.

Instinctively, Catherine took a few steps toward Doctor McKay and caught his arm. "It's so beautiful it scares me," she said. "How ridiculous is that?"

"Not at all, really," Doctor McKay stated as he checked over his scanner. "My worst luck usually happens to hit on the prettier planets, actually. Or those well-endowed with ancient technology. Or with an abundance of food stores that we could trade for. Or… with beautiful princesses who need saving. Or… What I mean is… it's usually in places like this that we have to do a lot of running away. Mostly while being shot at." He looked at her, but Catherine, lost in her own thoughts, didn't seem to notice.

"Or… on peaceful, beautiful worlds, perfect for being visited by new-comers," she added bitterly. It was obvious she wasn't talking about MH6 - 98U, but it was unlikely Doctor McKay could even imagine what she was talking about. She shivered again, but clamped her mouth shut when she heard a bit of deep chuckling from behind and off to the side. _Sheppard! Damn that man._

"But I'm sure that isn't going to happen this time, Doctor Spencer," Doctor McKay added quickly, obviously trying to ease her mind. "This looks safe enough. For now."

"If you're done bonding," Sheppard said, as he came between them, "there's a whole settlement waiting for our help. Let's move out!"

As they were leaving the safe surroundings of the Stargate and were getting deeper and deeper in the mist of the forest, the feeling of déjà-vu was getting stronger, bringing to the surface the memory of her first off-world trip with the SG-1. It had been Daniel Jackson's idea to have her on the team for an off-world non-risky mission and he didn't back down until he got General Hammond's approval. The periodical visit on Alcyon had seemed the perfect opportunity. Populated by a peaceful and friendly community, with its virgin forests, its mountains twice as high as the Everest, its exotic mix of animals and its two suns, Alcyon was probably one of the most beautiful planets ever visited by SG-1, perfect for a new-comer's inception into the world of space-travel.

And it had been so, at least before Ba'al attacked the planet from orbit, at short time after their arrival. In spite of the years that had past, Catherine could still hear the screams heard in the thundering explosions that had hit without mercy the amazing, white city built in the heart of the forest. She could still see the faces of the fallen and their empty, dead eyes. Looking at the broken bodies sprawled on the alleys she had learned helplessness. She could still feel in her bones the silence that followed the attack. The attack that shattered her peace of mind forever and filled her nights with nightmares.

Oh, yes. Catherine had seen such a planet before. She knew all too well that silence, just like beauty, could be extremely deceiving. Deadly, even.

o0o0o

They had managed to maintain a steady pace for a while, but John didn't expect it to last. McKay was with them after all. Sure, he wasn't as vocal about it as usual, but he still hated leaving the safety of Atlantis and everyone knew it. At least he'd stopped complaining about what the atmospheric radiation might do to his fair complexion.

It didn't take long for the sneezing to start. Doctor Spencer. At least it looked like the allergies claim was real.

"I need to rest for a few minutes," she asked in a rather breathy voice, then sneezed again.

John stopped abruptly and turned to face her. Without saying a word, she put down the medical kit and pulled out a travel pack of tissues from her inside pocket.

"I think it's the air here,” McKay offered, oblivious to the tension between the two. “This moon rotates around a large ringed planet… there's bound to be atmospheric differences that Doctor Spencer isn't used to, this being her first time off-world and all." He grinned at the young doctor, leaving John out of their easy camaraderie. "I'm feeling a bit tired myself."

"Colour me surprised, McKay," John muttered. He sighed heavily. "Look, you can both rest once we get there."

Avoiding his eyes, she opened her kit, pulled out a bottle, popped a couple of pills from it and dry swallowed them before sneezing into her tissue again.

"Seriously, though, Doc, I never would have expected you to tire out this quick." John reached down and closed the med kit. "I did offer to help you carry this, if it's too much for your lightweight self." From the heated teary-eyed glare she levelled at him, John knew he was pushing the right buttons.

"And I remember myself saying I didn't need help." Her voice was surprisingly breathy and deep. She turned a hard, suspicious gaze to the hand on the kit handle.

A moment later, her gaze lifted again to his and John could see blood vessels burning up the whites of her eyes. It looked like the doc really had bad allergies, but so did Doctor Jackson, and he survived. She would, too. The heat from her stare, though, seemed to burn right into him and the suddenly deep grumble of her voice as she enunciated each word raised the hairs on the back of his neck.

"I said I need a moment to rest. I'm not a marine or a flyboy. And contrary to popular belief-" She sneezed again, the force of it shaking her whole body and nearly knocking the leaves off the trees. "-I am human." She said this with a deadly look toward her own medical team. “Anyway, you shouldn’t stay here waiting for me. Go ahead and I will catch up.”

"That is not wise," Teyla said. "This planet may not be safe."

Doctor Spencer offered her a brief smile. "It's okay." She glanced at McKay. "We're alone, right?"

He tapped the life-signs detector. "So far, nothing but us. But… the signal could be covered by the radiation from the ring planet…"

John grunted. "What the hell are you talking about; we’re not leaving you here. Ronon…" He motioned to the young woman.

"I can carry you, Doc," said the big guy.

Doctor Spencer shook her head. "That won't be necessary," she said. "This path leads straight to the settlement, isn't that correct?"

"Well…" Teyla shot a look to John. "Yes. That is true."

"Catherine…" McKay muttered, but a single searing look from her shut him down.

"See? No reasons to worry for me!” she said, almost cheerfully. “Besides, you all need to get moving. Isn't that right, Colonel?"

This was a mistake and he could feel it. Yeah, she was pissing him off to no end, but leaving her alone on a strange alien planet was an entirely different matter. Especially on a planet that had been recently under attack. Reluctantly, John took a look at his scanner for life signs. Just like McKay said, the area looked clear, with no one around except for them. Still, all his instincts were telling him to refuse and he opened his mouth to say it when he finally caught her gaze. There was no way of misinterpreting the silent plea in her eyes. She didn’t want them to stay and, whatever was going on with her, she wasn't going to give it up anytime soon.

He shoved the scanner back in his pocket and took a deep breath.

"A few minutes rest only," he said and snapped his fingers at one of the soldiers who handed him his sidearm. He took it and passed it along toher. "Safety's on the side. Flip it off before firing, if you need to."

She huffed at him. "I'm not shooting anyone."

John smirked at her. "Trust me, Doc. You want to keep this with you… just for the hell of it." When he placed the gun in her hand, he noticed it tremble. She abruptly dropped the gun onto her lap and locked eyes with him, as if to dare him to mention the apparent weakness in her hand.

He made a grab for the medkit and this time Doctor Spencer let him take it.

"But..." McKay looked rather confused.

"No 'buts', Rodney. We're here to work, not on vacation.” He never intend to be so harsh and regretted his words almost at the same instant they left his mouth, but it was already too late to take them back, so he motioned for the team to start moving again.

"McKay!" Rodney shot one last look at Doctor Spencer and so did John. Sitting on a log, elbows on her knees and head in her hands, she looked so young, so fragile, so... civilian. He walked until they disappeared from her sight, then ordered Smith to go back and keep an eye on her from a safe distance. It was against all his principles to leave that stubborn woman behind, no matter how annoying she was and how much she insisted she was perfectly fine on her own.

_The pain in the ass._

o0o0o

After leaving Doctor Spencer and her escort behind, it only took them a little over fifteen minutes to reach the village. Rodney had been unusually silent the rest of the way and there were no other inconveniences. What they found in the village was a whole different matter. There were barely three people standing and even those looked like they had been through hell and back. The place was filled with the smell of decay and you needed no medical expertise to tell that most of the bodies lying in the streets were already dead, while the other villagers were too sick to do anything about it.

While the medical team was checking life signs and moving the survivors to one of the larger houses where they could better tend to them, John and his men were trying to gather as much information from the conscious survivors as they could. They were all in shock to one degree or another, all of them having lost a dear one, but some were able to shed some light on the events without breaking down with grief. By all appearances, a few days before the Wraith attack, a strange plague had started spreading through town, killing people and leaving them defenceless. There didn't seem to be any particular symptoms to this disease – head aches, fever, your usual flu signs or nothing at all – until you were bed-ridden and dying and it didn't seem to affect just a certain segment of the population. Rich and poor, young and old, no one was spared. Within days, the population had dwindled to about a hundred. Sick and scared, they were mourning their dead and their own fate when the Wraith struck, cutting through them with what sounded like a new weapon. While none of the buildings were affected, anyone that had fallen in the path of the red beam had been struck dead.

Even on a cursory look, whatever weapon the Wraith had used, it was like nothing they had encountered so far. There were no visible marks on the bodies – no lacerations or scorch marks or anything – but they all seemed to have suffered massive internal haemorrhage, their blood gushing out of their eyes, noses and ears. It wasn't a pretty sight, as the weak stomachs of some of the medical and military staff made sure to attest to. John was secretly grateful to McKay for nagging him all morning and making him skip breakfast. On the other hand, Rodney _had_ had a sandwich and was looking rather green around the gills, trying valiantly to keep it down.

"Colonel, I don't think it was wise to leave Doctor Spencer and private Smith alone out there," Teyla said, stepping closer. Though she seemed shaken by the sight, she was faring better than most under the circumstances and John couldn't help feeling a bit envious for that.

"Don't worry, Teyla. They should be fine. Eventually, she'll decide to get off her ass and join us. And if Smith's in luck, she won't even notice he's there," John assured her.

"I really think it was a mistake," Teyla insisted.

"I did a complete scan of the area. There was nothing there. There was also nothing between there and here.”

"Yes, but I've been getting an odd feeling ever since we arrived here."

John had learnt to trust the Athosian's instincts long ago and he wasn't going to chance ignoring her now. "You mean there's Wraith about?" he checked, taking out his scanner.

"I'm not sure... I can't put my finger on it, but something is definitely wrong."

He waited for the life-sign detector to do a complete scan of the area and as the screen started displaying the results the slightly annoyed look on his face turned dark. "That's not good."

"What is it, Colonel?"

"They're not there, for one thing. But they're not on their way here, either."

He frowned. "Rodney!" he called.

Rodney, who was verifying God knows what on his tablet, raised his head. "What is it?"

"Can you do another scan of the area?"

"Didn't you already do one?"

"Yes, but I need a second opinion," Sheppard said sheepishly.

Rodney pulled out his own scanner and started tinkering with it after dramatically scoffing in exasperation. As he did so, the look on his face turned from confusion to worry.

Sheppard was peering over his shoulder at the screen. "What are those things?" He was pointing at a group of three blue dots.

"I've managed to isolate human life-signs and programmed the scanner to show everything else in blue." The normal tone of superiority he usually reserved for such occasions was tinted with worry.

"So, you're saying this little red dot here," he pointed to a lonely, red dot, far from the path and further still from the village, "is the only human out there?"

"Pretty much… I sure hope you're not thinking what I think you're thinking."

"Unfortunately, yes. Either they got separated and one of them is out of range, or…" The feeling of guilt was overwhelming. "Teyla, get Ronon and the others and prepare a defensive!" he ordered, already heading out of the village.

"Wait. What are you going to do?" Rodney called after him. "At least take Ronon with you!" he suggested, but John was already too far to hear him.

o0o0o

"Breathe in, breathe out! Again, and again… Fucking allergy!" Catherine muttered between sneezes. She wasn't sure how long it had been since they had left, but it couldn't have been too long since her pills hadn't kicked in yet. Out of all her allergies, it just had to be one of the worse – not only was it hard for her to breath, but she was sneezing like crazy and her hands had swollen enough to make holding her med kit almost impossible. That also made Colonel Sheppard's gun completely useless, not that she'd be able to fire it outside of a firing range, anyway. She was a healer, not a killer, regardless what some of the nurses might think. Apparently, at the moment she was a healer who couldn't do her job – which was why she came along in the first place, facing her phobia of off-world travel.

 _We're here to work, not on vacation._ That was all he said to her, after all those months of hard work reorganizing the whole department, obtaining more funds from the IOA and spending more hours in the operating theatre than she had in her entire career previous. That goes without mentioning the Everestine mountain of paperwork she had to fill out. Damn him, she wasn't going to just sit here and prove him right. Despite her fatigue and dizziness – she needed to find some antihistamines with less side-effects – she forced herself to stand and took a few unsteady steps down the path to the village.

"C'mon, c'mon, I can do this, I know I can!" she tried to encourage herself. It was still hard to breath, but she finally seemed to have the sneezing under control. She was almost grateful she didn't have to carry her med kit now, certain she wouldn't have been able to budge it, let alone carry it all the way to the village in her condition. She wasn't, however, that grateful for the gun – useless and quite heavy in her swollen hands. She felt tempted to just drop it, but thought better of it – if she ran into a threat, she could at least use it for intimidation or, failing that, a club.

She managed to take a few more steps before the gun proved its usefulness – the leaves of the underbrush behind her rustled with the presence of something big and she instantly pointed it at the potential danger. "Who's there?" she asked, glad her voice didn't betray her nervousness.

"Don't shoot! It's just me," said a vaguely familiar voice and a short, bald man she recognized as private Smith came out of the bushes. "I wasn't spying on you, or anything," he assured her. "The Colonel asked me to keep an eye on you and make sure you reach the village in safety."

So he hadn't left her behind on her own. That didn't prove anything other than the fact that John Sheppard knew how to do his job, but it still didn't stop her from feeling a slight jolt of happiness – she was definitely stupid. She really had to stop doing this.

"Thank you, private," she said, putting the gun away.

"You didn't even remove the safety, did you?" he asked with a smile.

"Of course not. I was planning on bashing your head in with it. I'm much better with melee weapons, you know," she said by way of explanation.

"Sure you are," he approved, fighting to keep back a smile. She was so small, he wondered how she even managed to hold the thing up, let alone swing it at his head. "May I call you Catherine?"

"It's my name, isn't it?"

"Then, Catherine, allow me to walk you to the village," he offered, giving her his arm.

Before she could wonder if he was being a gentleman or just hitting on her, a red flash of light coming from behind hit him square in the back and passed right though him. Blood erupted from his ears, splashing onto her face and clothes and the man crumpled at her feet, dead.

She should be shocked, she told herself, but instead of panicking, she turned rapidly, gun aimed despite having no clue how to use it. The creature standing before her shouldn't have been there. The Colonel had scanned the area, hadn't he? But still, there it was – eight feet tall, white hair and blue-ish pale face sneering at her with razor-sharp teeth. She had seen pictures before. She knew very well what it was, but it was one thing to see a small image of a Wraith, posted on a screen in Atlantis, and a total different one to see the living creature sitting in front of you.

 _‘Run. Run. Damn it, RUN!’_ she told herself, feeling her blood run cold in her veins. Her reason was telling her she had no chance to outrun it, but she couldn't stay and fight when she didn't know _how._

For what seemed to be the longest minute of her life, the creature didn't seem inclined to attack, just staring down at her in what looked a lot like disbelief. Whatever had thrown it off, Catherine was aware it wasn't going to stay like that for ever, so she decided to use the chance to get the upper hand on it.

"Don't move!" she barked in a military fashion. It almost sounded believable, so she continued. "If you dare to blink, let alone move, I'll shoot you where you stand!"

A second Wraith appeared next to the first one and Catherine knew she was lost. Forcing her fingers to move, she frantically searched for the safety. It couldn't be that hard to figure out when so many people used guns on a regular basis. She had almost succeeded when a white light engulfed her and she lost consciousness.

o0o0o

When she came to, she found herself staring up at two nightmarish faces looming over her. It _had_ to be a nightmare. She closed her eyes and opened them again. Now, the shorter of the two Wraith was looking at the other with a grimace that could be the equivalent to a "sarcastic smile", if their race would ever smile in the first place. OK, it was _definitely_ a nightmare.

"Look what we have here! You aren't here alone, are you?" the tall one asked, looming closer. "Where are the others?"

 _…or maybe not._ The memory of the last few minutes before losing consciousness came rushing back. Definitely not a nightmare, then. "Others? What... others?" she asked, digging her nails into her palms to keep focus. Whatever happened, she couldn't betray the others.

"Your companions. Do you expect me to believe you came alone, human?"

The voice was full of hate and disgust, making her heart race faster, until she knew she was about to die of a heart attack. Unless, of course, the creature decided not to wait those extra ten minutes she needed to die from natural causes and killed her on the spot.

"I am a doctor, a healer... I came here to take care of the wounded."

"Where did you come from?"

Now the creature was so close to her she could almost feel its breath on her forehead. She cringed in disgust. "Have you never heard of toothpaste?" she asked, wrinkling her nose. They were going to kill her anyway, why bother to be polite?

One quick look convinced her she had been disarmed and she doubted she was fast enough to steal a stunner from them. Cursing under her breath, she searched her pockets for anything she could use as a weapon. Though her instincts all told her it was over, she refused to give up just like that. She felt ridiculously relieved when her fingers finally found the familiar shape of her pocketknife.

"I asked you a question, human. Where did you come from?" the Wraith insisted.

"From M6G M77," she said, sliding the knife open and twisting it around so she would have a more comfortable grip on it when she swung it at the Wraith in a suicidal attempt to intimidate.

"Do not lie, human! Their weapons are not nearly as advanced as what you had on you. Are you going to tell the truth now, or do I have to feed on you to be more convincing?"

"You sound... pretty convincing to me, but I told you everything," she said, jumping to her feet and pulling her hand out of her pocket. The blade of the knife was nestled between her middle and her ring fingers as an extension of her fist and she was swinging her fist back, aiming for the Wraith's throat. Her planning had been almost flawless, under the current conditions, except she didn't count on the other Wraith carrying out the first one's threat.

With a howl, he threw himself at her and she just managed to scratch it before seeing the creature pointing its weapon at her chest. With a horrified scream, she threw the knife and gripped the barrel of the weapon, hopelessly struggling for another minute of life.

o0o0o

He shouldn't have just left them behind, John kept reproaching himself as he ran as fast as he could to where the scanner had last indicated a human life sign. That was what he got for paying attention to a child, he guessed, but it didn't excuse him. He should have at least left Ronon with her, someone he knew would be able to hold his own both against the girl and against any potential threat. Or he should have just gotten the big guy to sling her over his shoulder, end of argument. Hell, Rodney was keen enough to impress, he could have got the scientist to carry her, maybe it would have kept both of them quiet and it would have prevented so many dark scenarios.

The thought that he would have to go back and explain to Elizabeth how he lost their Golden Kid was sickening. Though he wouldn't admit it, he expected the red dot on the scanner to be Smith, more experienced and with better chances of survival in a direct confrontation.

A shriek pierced the air and he quickened his pace, weapon at the ready. He knew that voice and his heart began racing faster. Against all odds, Catherine seemed to be hanging on. Maybe Smith got separated from her, he hoped.

In seconds, he had crossed the distance to the source of the voice and he could see her lying on the ground, desperately struggling to hold the Wraith's weapon away from her chest. There was no time to hesitate before he fired a burst of bullets straight into the head of the creature.

With a cry of agony, the Wraith toppled over on top of Catherine, its dark, sticky blood oozing onto her clothes. She was fighting to get out from under the crushing weight of the creature, but John wasn't in a position to give her a hand as the second Wraith was reaching for its weapon.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," John advised, holding his P-90 pointedly.

The Wraith sneered. "Are you that impatient to join us for lunch? I was just asking where we could call on you."

Sheppard kept his riffle pointed at the unnerving thing. "We're not really in a position to receive house guests right now. The place is a mess." He flashed his best innocent smile.

"You humans and your taste for jokes. Such a shame they usually go to waste on my kind."

John raised an eyebrow. "Does that mean you're going to let us leave because we're funny? I know a few lawyer jokes that are simply a hoot!" The humour in his voice was shallow and his finger was tense around the trigger. He knew he couldn't let the Wraith escape and alert the others to their presence. "Let's say I let _you_ live a little longer if you tell _me_ just how many of you there are here," he tried. His eyes were open for that third damn blue dot the scanner had shown. Maybe the other Wraith had already ran off to report.

The Wraith laughed. Not a real laugh, at least not by human standards, but a sound that sent chills to his bones. "For someone like you, I should be enough!" it boomed, drawing its weapon in one swift move. Before it could have the chance to fire, though, its advance was cut short by a burst of bullets to the chest.

The creature fell, another pile of lifeless Wraith next to the first one. For good measure, John fired a few more rounds into it, before turning to help Doctor Spencer. She had crawled out on her own and was kneeling over a human body. _Smith._ He squeezed his hands into fists by his side – another life on his conscience. Thank God, at least she was alive and, side from the splatter of Wraith and human blood on her face and clothes, she seemed to be alright. She didn't seem wounded, so it probably was Smith's blood – from the looks of things, they used the same kind of weapon on him as they had in the village.

Almost on instinct, he leaned over the fallen Wraith and took its damn weapon. It looked like a flash light with a crystal at one end, engravings all over it. He put it in his pocket to take a better look at it later.

He turned back to Catherine, who had been silent throughout. "Are you OK?" he asked in the softest tone he could muster, instantly regretting the stupid question.

"He's dead," she said plainly and he knew she was talking about the private. Though she looked shaken to her core, when she turned toward him, he noticed her eyes were clear and her voice was calm, almost as if she had gone through this on a regular basis. More surprising was that she wasn't trying to avoid his eyes anymore.

"Thank you," Catherine added, standing up. "What did you find in the village?"

"I'll tell you on the way. It's not a good idea to stick around here for long – there should be a third one around here and I don't see it anywhere. Nothing is scarier than a stealthy Wraith," he joked, motioning at her to follow him.

o0o0o

They were walking at a swift pace and Catherine didn't seem about to complain, though she didn't look very well. He had finished telling her about the village and the weapon she had witnessed first-hand and she had given him all the details of Smith's death. "Are you sure you're OK?" he asked, eyeing her worriedly.

She nodded. "Weren't there any healthy villagers left?" she asked, changing the topic to something safer.

"Doesn't look like it." He shrugged. "And I'm almost sure there's even more Wraith around and they're going to launch another attack sooner or later." He watched her carefully for a few more steps, her feet looking more uncertain with each one. She was limping slightly and the tight look on her face told him she was in pain. He couldn't blame her, that was one big Wraith that fell on her, but they needed to get back as soon as possible. He offered her his hand for support. "We need to get to the village before they do."

"I am... fine. I can walk by myself, thank you."

But she wasn't. Although Catherine did her best to follow him, it took only a few minutes to see she wasn't fast enough.

Without waiting for more protests on her part, he grabbed her hand, expecting an indignant scoff or worse on her part. Surprisingly, her breath caught in her throat and her face grew hot with a blush, but she didn't try to take her hand back. At the same time, she grew quiet again and broke eye contact, allowing him to guide her. She was probably too exhausted and weak to protest, his brain supplied.

o0o0o

"I had no idea your allergies were really that bad," she heard Colonel Sheppard say, trying to break the silence.

"They're nothing, really," she waved it off. "As long as I have my pills, I'm fine."

"Those must be _some pills!_ " he whistled. "You were swelling up like a potato," he said, tactfully sticking his foot in his mouth.

"Oh, really?" she huffed. "And that's why you assumed I wanted to skip on my duty as a doctor? In front of my team!" she hissed. She swivelled around and her eyes locked on his. He might have just saved her life, but she wasn't going to let him get away with humiliating her in front of her team and then poking some more fun at her.

There was too much at stake to risk and lose the tiniest advantage by blinking. This also meant she was currently walking backwards.

"Watch it!" he snapped, grabbing her hand and pulling her forcefully away. Her arm hurt and she found herself hitting his chest at an unreasonable speed before she realized she would have been impacting a low hanging branch otherwise.

His arms felt warm and strong and she hurried to get back on her own feet before she got any fond of that feeling. She immediately regretted that move as her ankle instantly protested and she had to grab onto his arm for support. It hurt like hell and she could tell it was at least twisted without having to look at it.

"Goddammit, I think that Wraith really did a number on my ankle!" she mumbled, her breath picking up once she tried to place some weight back on the injured ankle. She looked up at him and, as their eyes met, she quickly turned away, her heart skipping a beat. Why hadn't he sent someone else after them? Ronon would have come in really handy right about now. It would definitely been easier to ask of him what she was about to ask now. She cleared her throat, drawing out the moment as much as she could. "Can I borrow your shoulder? As much as I'd love to, I doubt I can walk on my own all the way to the village."

He nodded, letting her lean on him. Fortunately, he didn't seem to notice her hesitation. "It's not that far, just a couple more miles," he encouraged her.

The sharp pain was literally taking her breath away as Catherine tried hard to continue walking, leaning on his shoulder.

"I think it might be disjointed," she grumbled. "Damn it! That Wraith must have weighed a tone!"

Breathing hard, she stopped for a moment and looked at him, tears of pain filling her eyes.

"I can't. I just can't believe it, but I can't walk!" she hissed between curses.

"I can carry you, you know? You can't be that heavy and the village isn't that far," he offered.

She stared at him in disbelief. That would take the cake! Here she was, writhing in pain, still riding the adrenaline rush of her very first Wraith encounter, focused on how annoyed she was with this man just to have something other than the pain in her ankle to think about, and he was offering to _carry_ her. Should the circumstances been different, she would have laughed at the irony – hadn't she already spent most of her day in dangerous company? Even worse, a part of her really did want him to pick her up in his arms, hold her tight and keep her safe. She really wished it was the part that was writhing in pain and not the one that was constantly thinking about that annoying half-smile of his.

"You're the King of Timing, aren't you?" she accused, mocking him. "Is this how you've earned the admiration of your fan girls?"

"I respect your feelings, Dr Spencer. I really do. But I really have no clue what you're talking about and we don't have time for it. Now, I'd like to ask you not to hit me too hard."

Without further warning, he picked her up and slung her over his shoulder, carrying her like a sac of potatoes. The nerve of him! Who did he think he was?

"Hey, what do you think you're doing? Down!"

"I hope this is sufficiently un-romantic for your taste," he said, flinching slightly under her constant attacks to his back. Her small fists couldn't do much damage, but it was satisfying nonetheless to make sure he was aware of her full contempt with the situation. True, she was not much of a fighter, but any woman can punch a guy who tries to carry her like she'd be a bag or something. Emphasis on "thing", because in his rush Colonel John "Caveman" Sheppard seemed to consider that running was more important than her feelings.

"Didn't you hear me, Colonel? I want to walk by myself. I might be a little bit slower than you, but I don't like to be carried like this!" she hissed, continuing to hit him in the back.

"Damn you, let me down!"

o0o0o

Catherine's attempts at punching him felt more like a massage than anything else, making them rather tolerable. Along with her faint struggles, he also ignored her protests and complaints. He knew that if he ignored her, she would eventually give up – either through boredom or exhaustion. As they got closer to the village, he was proven right when she gave up on hitting him and became suddenly quiet, a sense that she was pouting filling the air around them.

It really had been a good idea. They were almost clear of the trees now, which left them a small stretch of clear land to cover before reaching the village. A few hundred feet at best.

"Do you think they are after us? The Wraith?" she asked, with a surprisingly calm voice. "How long can we hold them back? We'll need time to treat the sick and get them evacuated."

"I know that. We'll just have to wait for Rodney to fix the shield. This wasn't supposed to be a military mission."

They reached the edge of the forest. He could see the village, safe for now. He didn't want to be seen giving the good doctor a piggyback ride and he assumed she didn't want to be seen riding him like that, either. He sat Catherine down, careful not to drop her on her injured foot.

"Well, I doubt you'd want to make your entrance on my back. Lean on me and try to keep up. It's only about 300 feet."

o0o0o

Catherine grimaced as she set the injured foot on the ground, but it was quickly replaced by an expression of gratitude. Being seen on John Sheppard's back was an even more humiliating thought than being carried by him in the first place. She walked beside him, limping in silence to the village, and headed straight to the first person in sight, Teyla Emmagan. The Athosian looked rather worried and sad while examining the body of a child and Catherine suddenly had a feeling of déjà-vu. As she approached, she could see the girl was dead and had bled out of her eyes and ears. Her heart sank at the sight, but she couldn't allow herself to lose focus. There was no time for the dead. There never was. She had to make sure the survivors were taken care of.

"Teyla, where is my team?"

"Dr. Spencer, what happened?" she asked, staring at the copious amounts of blood covering her and the impressive smudges of blood on Sheppard's uniform. "And where is private Smith?"

Sheppard said nothing, so Catherine filled in for him. "He's dead. Long story. Please, tell me where my team is."

Teyla pointed to the large house that looked like the most animated place in the village at the moment. "Over there. We've already taken everyone in."

Walking toward the house, she could still feel Teyla's heavy gaze on her and the unspoken question in her eyes – how did private Smith die? She wasn't clear on that herself, but he had died because of her and if she didn't manage to keep the few survivors alive, his sacrifice would have been in vain. She squeezed her fists tight and quickened her step toward the improvised infirmary.

o0o0o

Teyla watched Catherine until she disappeared into the house and then she turned to John, who looked more tired than the apparent situation suggested he should be. "Are you alright, Colonel?"

He didn't get to answer before a faint noise, like a wasp, drifted through the air.

"They're coming!" Ronon shouted.

The attack had come swiftly. Three darts emerged from behind the tree line, swooping over the settlement. The scream of their engines sowed panic into their hearts, as they knew the Wraith were there to kill.

"GO! Everyone, positions! Take them down before they take us out!" John ordered everyone. Without waiting for formal invitations, Teyla and Ronon settled into strategic positions, each one hiding behind a different building, their weapons pointed at the sky, and so did the others.

The darts seemed to be searching for something, scanning the grounds and flying in tighter circles above the village. The first ship turned for another pass, the other two joining it in, flying in a V-like formation, and raced across the ground before opening fire.

With his P-90 in hand, John watched in silence, waiting for them to come close enough to be in the range of their weapons.

"Fire on the first target!" he ordered, squeezing the trigger and pumping half a clip into the first dart, followed immediately by the rest of his team.

A few bullets hit the dart's engines and, with a deafening noise, it exploded and fell on the ground.

The remaining darts, for a moment, gave the impression they were going to retreat. Instead, they unloaded about a dozen Wraith ready for combat, and the guns in their hands were no stunners. They were not there for culling, they were there to kill. The Wraith were definitely acting strange on this planet. 'Why' was the question here, but they would have to ask it later. Right now, they had to put up a fight.

"Rodney!" John called at his radio, taking down the first Wraith.

Without waiting another order, Teyla and Ronon opened fire, taking down as many Wraith as possible, perfectly aware of the danger their weapons posed.

o0o0o

Rodney had started working at the shield generator, but the panel was partially burnt and some of the crystals were missing. It had been particularly difficult to make it work the first time, right now it was quite impossible and the perspective of an imminent death didn't help either.

"The panel is a mess and the crystals-"

"Rodney!"

He knew that voice and didn't have to check to know John was not going to take _no_ for an answer. As usual, they were all in deep shit and he was the only one who could save the day. He sighed, looking at the burnt buttons.

"I'm working on it!"

"How much longer?" John wanted to know.

Rodney rolled his eyes in sheer annoyance. "It will take a miracle to make this work again. I can't say... Ten minutes? Give me ten more minutes!"

"There are Wraith everywhere and they keep coming! We might not have ten minutes!" John snapped, at the end of his nerves. He knew Rodney could give him a miracle in ten minutes. He wasn't sure they'd be around to use it.

"Oh, thank you. And that helps me how?"

"Just... fix it!"

As if he were some sort of magician. With a long sigh, Rodney opened the panel again – maybe he could find a way to power the device using only the remaining crystals.

It wasn't until a Wraith beam blast above his head that his inspiration sparked and he felt able to improvise. Good thing he worked best under pressure.

o0o0o

With another burst of gunfire, John killed one of the remaining five Wraith, looking worriedly for the two darts. He was about to finish his ammo, but it wasn't the time to bring that problem up just yet.

"I got six!" John announced them at the radio.

"I got seven," Teyla answered.

"Ten."

He had never tried to compete with Ronon, but Teyla was again holding out against the Wraith better than him. He gave her a quick look and consoled himself with the thought that she only got more than himself because she had a better location. He was secretly pleased none of the marines – since everyone seemed to be joining the contest – had managed to outdo his score.

Thrilled, Rodney grabbed his radio. "I'm almost-"

The sound of steps coming from behind made him turn around and he froze, dropping the radio. Grinning his huge teeth and with his hand raised in the air, a Wraith jumped at the scientist. A desperate burst of gun fire and the creature fell to the ground, still trying to grab Rodney's leg. Finally able to move, he took his own gun and shot it a few times.

"Thanks," he muttered, looking at John who had left his defensive position only to save his friend.

"Save that for later. Did you..."

"Yes."

With this new encouragement, the scientist finally managed to turn on the ancient device, activating a shield around the village before the two darts could return for another assault.

He had never doubted he would get it working. Come to think of it, didn't he tell them not to waste their ammo? Well, no, he didn't. But he very well could.

Ronon and Teyla killed the last Wraith before joining them.

The place was littered with Wraith bodies, the two remaining darts leaving to wherever it was they had come from – it was unusual, but they weren't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Just in case it turned out to be a Trojan Horse, they were going to stand watch, though.

"What the hell just happened?" Rodney asked, still holding his gun. "I mean, they're usually sadistic and murderous and all, but they usually prefer to have us for dinner, if you know what I mean. Why are they so… terminally murderous all of a sudden?"

No one could give him a proper answer at that.

o0o0o

Catherine had entered the house without knowing what to expect. Sheppard had tried to explain the situation as best as he could, but he couldn't prepare her for the sight that was waiting for her inside. The sick were spread throughout the whole house, lying on old mattresses and whatever other bedding had been scavenged from the other houses, most of them delirious with fever or dying. She could tell just by looking that at least a couple of them weren't going to make it through the day.

A piercing buzzing sound set everyone into alert. There was no doubt what had caused it and Catherine couldn't blame the nurses for stopping in their work and listening tensely to the increasing noise. Unfortunately there was no time for panic there was no way for them to help those outside. All they could do was help the people in their care. "Stephanie," she called, catching the attention of a blonde nurse with thick-rimmed glasses, bringing her out of her paralyzing fear – it seemed they were right about herself being scarier than the Wraith, at least among her staff. "Bring me the disinfectant!" she ordered, not letting the woman sink back into her fear. "And snap out of it, for Christ's sake!"

"Yes, Doctor Spencer. Right away."

The nurse hurried to bring her the Betadine and help her clean off the mess on her hands, without saying a word about the thick layers of blood covering her.

There was a lot of coughing, screaming and murmured phrases floating about, as most of the patients were deep in their own hallucinations, while others cried and fought against the nurses trying to care for them. Another patient vomited, choking and coughing – it was one of the two she had no hope for. The air was thick and the smell almost unbearable, but she couldn't allow herself to feel sick. There was plenty of time for that... later. Or at least she hoped so.

Since most of her life Catherine worked in private, fancy clinics, with expensive instruments and perfect conditions, she was not accustomed with the poor conditions of field surgery. She was even further out of her depths as she realized she had no idea what she had to deal with – she didn't have the conditions to properly isolate the pathogen and identify it and the symptoms were all over the place. Doctor Moore and Doctor Johannes had already tried most antibiotics and antivirals and the villagers were not responding to any. Biting her upper lip, Catherine tried to put a wall between her soul and the horrible images before her while limping from one patient to another and doing her best to keep them alive. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was completely in the dark here.

When she finished attending to the last one, the shooting had already died down. All she could hear was a deep silence and the beating of her own heart. Exhausted, she slumped in a chair and looked at the door.

"They're not shooting anymore. Who wants to go outside to see what happened?"

o0o0o

The dart they had brought down was lying in a pile of rubble which used to be an uninhabited house on the edge of the village. There was nothing left to salvage, but the danger it posed was gone. With the shield functional, they would at least have a night to get the people stable and ready to go through the Gate.

Having nothing else to take care of outside, Teyla went into the impromptu infirmary, nearly knocking into one of the medics on his way out. Everyone inside was jumpy and with good reason. "You've taken them out, didn't you?" a blonde nurse asked. "Is everyone alright?" she continued with marked interest. "Doctor McKay? Colonel Sheppard? Ronon?"

Teyla gave the woman a weary look, but nodded. "They are all unharmed," she confirmed. She _did not_ notice the way the woman jumped with excitement at the news, but she did hear her muttering a victorious "I knew it!"

Noticing Catherine at a patient's bedside, she walked over and sat next to her, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"You were very brave."

The doctor stared through Teyla, her eyes going slightly out of focus with exhaustion. "Where are... the others?" she asked.

"They are unharmed," Teyla assured her.

"And... Rodney?" she asked, hesitant as if she wanted to ask something else, but thinking better of it.

"Doctor McKay is fine, as are the others. He managed to get the defences running just in time and we took out the dart without having to resort to plan B. He was rather surprised about that."

"I see," was all she said before going back to tending to her patient.

Teyla put Doctor Spencer's reticence down to the shock of the new experience. The Athosian was doing her best to understand this strange Earth woman, but she just couldn't place her in any of the categories she had constructed for her fellow members of the expedition. She was frail and distant, with a stubbornness and ego to rival those of Doctor McKay, yet she was coping surprisingly well under pressure. Weighing her in another glance, as she leaned over the bed giving medicine to a reluctant patient, Teyla decided it was best to let her do her job. "If you need anything, I will be outside."

o0o0o

Zelenka was the one on hand to receive the expedition's call for backup. He found Doctor Weir in her office where she had been waiting for news from Colonel Sheppard's team. He awkwardly made his way in.

"Doctor Weir, it seems Colonel Sheppard's expedition has run into some Wraith trouble. It appears there are about thirty villagers left after the last Wraith attack today and they are all sick. Now, Sheppard's team has managed to take out a dart with what they had on hand, but the area is not safe yet. Rodney even managed to get the local defence system back online. The shield, however, barely has enough power for a few hours."

Elizabeth listened in silence, already thinking about what she should do. By the time he finished, she had already made a decision.

"All right. We'll send a jumper to pick them up. Come."

"Doctor Weir, you should know that Doctor Spencer insisted we take quarantine measures, in case the pathogen is airborne," Zelenka pointed out.

"All the more reason to work quickly, if we want them back safely." Elizabeth left the office in a hurry, keeping her brave face on, and didn't stop until she reached the control chamber. She was more than aware of the danger, but there was only one thing they could do.

"Major Lorne! Please hurry to the jumpers' bay! You will depart immediately to MH6-98U. It looks like Colonel Sheppard's team was attacked by Wraith. They need transport to evacuate the survivors. Doctor Spencer warns us that the pathogen might be airborne, please take care."

"I'm on my way, m'am!" came the answer.

With her lips pursed into a thin line Doctor Elizabeth Weir looked at the Gate. If she learned anything during all this time in Atlantis, it was to never give up hope.

o0o0o

The death of the two terminal patients a little after the end of the attack didn't take anyone by surprise. The fact that most of the stable cases had turned terminal in just as short a period of time, on the other hand, filled Catherine with an unbearable sense of uselessness and despair. This was not the time or place to show that, however. It never was. She always had had to look confident and in control, even when all she wanted to do was curl up and cry on someone's shoulder. No one should be surprised she ended up being unable to express her feeling, since so many things depended on how she managed to keep them under control. The current situation was no exception. It was enough for her to show the slightest hint of weakness and all of her nurses would lose heart and let chaos take over.

Calm and efficient, she went from one bedside to another, fighting for each life in turn, barely pulling one from the edge before another two were almost lost. If at the beginning she had planned on getting everyone through this, her hopes had dwindled to simply saving as many as she could. At the edge of her eye, she caught sight of a couple of soldiers carrying one of the now three dead bodies out. She barely had a chance to tell them to leave the door open before all hell broke loose. It started with an old man who started to breathe hard and choke, trails of blood flowing from his ears and nose before the doctors could react.

"Give me epinephrine, fast!" Catherine ordered, but at the time she injected the adregenic drug, he was already dead.

"Defibrillator! Damn it, we're losing him! Charge at 150!"

"Again! Charge at 250! C'mon, breathe!

Again at 300! "

No pulse.

_"Doctor Spencer! We have another one!"_

_"This one is also in shock!"_

_"The girl here is..."_

What happened next was pure nightmare.

When she would later think back on this day, all she would remember is how she ran from one patient to another, giving them whatever drug could alleviate their symptoms, without a chance to actually cure them and trying any imaginable resuscitation technique, all in vain. It took just fifteen minutes for the number of deaths to increase from three to ten, and spiral up from there.

The old died first, followed by the children, while a few of the adults seemed to cling to life with despair, but they didn't last long either. At the end of that long day, they were all dead.

"What the hell was that?" the blonde nurse – Stephanie, her brain supplied – asked, verging on hysteria. "Did we get it, too? Are we going to die?"

She could see the same question reflected in the eyes of all of her team members and she couldn't say anything to calm them down because she didn't know the answer either. Lacking a better alternative, Catherine simply decided to fall back onto her reputation as a slave driver, knowing this way she would distract them from their dark thoughts. She didn't have Doctor Weir's talent for speeches, but she could at least do what she knew best – play the mean bitch. "Get a hold of yourself!" she ordered, grabbing Stephanie by her shoulders and shaking her slightly. "We all knew the risks and we still signed up for this. If I catch anyone having second thoughts, I'll send them packing as soon as we know they're not contagious." Sure, that also meant they would survive whatever this was, and she gave them another sharp look, daring them to contradict her, then added, "Pack the tissue samples and the med kits. There's a jumper on the way and we shouldn't stick around longer than necessary."

o0o0o

The village looked unnervingly peaceful. Aside from the building the dart had crashed into, there were no visible signs of an attack. The shield shimmered faintly around it, making it look like an underwater settlement. Everything was quiet. A ghost town, Catherine thought. There was no smoke. There were no screams. There were no dismembered bodies littering the streets. The houses were standing as pristine as ever. Nothing was the same, yet everything was identical. The feeling of loss and uselessness, the wish to run, to cover her eyes and pretend it never happened. Could she do that again? Did she have the right to?

She looked around for Colonel Sheppard. At least the team she had come with was still alive, at least for the time being. No one showed any signs of flu yet, so maybe she still had a chance to come up with something in case it had already spread.

She spotted the Colonel beside one of the smaller houses at the edge of the village and, doing her best to refrain from limping, she headed his way. He looked about as discouraged and disappointed as she felt, so she decided she couldn't burden him with her personal problems. If only Daniel were there!

"Colonel," she started, leaning against the wall next to him.

"Doctor Spencer, how is everything going?" he asked.

She shook her head. There was no way to make the news sound better, so she decided to put it simply. "Everyone died."

"Oh."

"I've never seen anything like this," she confessed. "But that isn't what I wanted to talk to you about."

"What is it?"

"We can't leave the bodies like this. I have no idea what caused this or how it spreads. We need to burn the bodies, but I'm afraid even that wouldn't be enough. We might need to burn the whole village. With this kind of pathogen at large, the Wraith would be this galaxy's smallest concern. If it originated here, it would be the only way to make sure it won't strike again."

"And if it didn't?"

"We'd cut off one possible source of infection. But the threat would still be out there, so we'll have to find the point of origin."

"How likely is it that we're already infected?"

She sighed and looked up at him. It was the last thing she wanted to say, but she forced the words past her lips. "I think it would be a miracle if we aren't."

He nodded. "Don't we pose a threat to Atlantis, then?"

"I've already recommended quarantine. Besides, outside of Atlantis, I have no access to the necessary equipment to figure out what exactly this is and how to stop its spread. There's more at stake here than our lives or even Atlantis," she said gravely.

He drew in a breath. "I'm sorry," he said.

"What for?"

"Dragging you along on this mission. Maybe if you stayed back in Atlantis-"

Without a second thought, she placed her hand over his mouth, cutting him off. "Don't even think about that. You were right – I'm here to do my job and I'm a big girl, I don't need you looking after me. Or anyone else, for that matter."

He was frowning down at her and it finally hit her that she was still clasping her hand to his mouth. As if electrocuted, she pulled away.

"That was all I had to say. I've got to go, Colonel. Looks like Atlantis has sent a jumper for us." She walked away, feeling her cheeks burn. It really wasn't the time for this sort of things.

 _Queen of Timing_ , she thought to herself, heading for the jumper that had just landed in the village square.

 

  
%MCEPASTEBIN%


	2. Episode 2: Bonding

**Episode 2: Bonding**

"I don't see why you have to bring this up again," Colonel Sheppard mumbled, half-way through his lunch. He wasn't the kind of person to eat in silence, but he'd been very quiet throughout the meal.

It might have had something to do with the subject of their conversation.

"Maybe because I want to make you feel as uncomfortable as I am right now," Rodney answered, stabbing his steak. "80% of the times you get captured, it's always by sexy aliens that wouldn't frown upon seducing you, if it helped them reach their goal. I take it back, it happened to me once – with Harmony! Let me rephrase it - aliens _you_ wouldn't mind seducing to get out of their trap. I just get to feel like a pedo!"

That morning, Rodney had awoken with the tail end of a particularly disturbing dream still lingering at the corner of his consciousness. The worse part was he had been uninspired enough to mention it to the psychiatrist just outside her office, where Sheppard was just happening to pass by. It didn't take much to amuse him on a slow day.

"Come on, Rodney. I've been in danger from my captors as many times as any of you." Besides, he had his own reason to feel like a corruptor of minors at times, though never around Harmony. Said reason was sitting a few tables away and had ignored him ever since she sat down to eat.

"I wasn't saying you weren't. I was pointing out that danger, in your case, usually wears tight leather and high heels."

"So what does that have to do with anything?" John's amusement from earlier was starting to wear thin and so was his patience.

Rodney tried to smile disarmingly. "Nothing really. But it gets really annoying after a while. Remember the incident with Larrin?"

The memory brought a wistful look to Sheppard's eyes. "What about her?"

"I was almost feeling sorry for you back then. Until I realized you were probably enjoying the situation a bit too much."

"I wouldn't say I was enjoying it, not as such," he tried to excuse himself, but a wicked little smile crossed his lips at exactly the wrong time. "Though, in retrospect..." He threw a quick glance at the other table, but she either couldn't hear them, or she didn't care.

"See? What was I saying! She was hot!" Rodney jumped.

"...I never said she wasn't."

"It's not fair," Rodney complained again "It _really_ isn't fair. Whenever I get captured, it's either the Wraith, or something I'd prefer never to remember." He gave a theatrical sigh. "Even in my dreams, I get kidnapped by vicious, murderous, mutant lemons from outer space!"

John couldn't help himself and, despite his annoyance, gave McKay a wide grin. That was how the whole discussion had started, after all.

"Don't laugh! Why can't I get captured by the sexy alien for once?"

o0o0o

There must have been something wrong with the food today, Catherine thought, fighting to swallow. It was either that, or the acoustics of the mess hall – definitely too good for her taste. Larrin this, Larrin that, lemons from space and sexy aliens – it seemed Rodney couldn't catch a break and that _really_ got on her nerves. It just had to be that, she had no other reason to be bothered by Sheppard's womanizing, other than his gloating was done at the expense of her only friend here.

OK, she had two choices: she could finish her meal, ignoring as best as she could the conversation, or she could use this chance to wipe Colonel Sheppard's smirk, which she could feel even without looking at him.

There wasn't really a choice there, so she abandoned her meal and went straight to their table, with a shining smile flourishing on her lips.

"Tell me, Doctor," she purred, looking only at Rodney. Casually, she put both hands on the table, leaning toward him. The fact that she was almost painfully aware of the other man's presence just served to infuriate her further. She had done her best to avoid Sheppard's company for the two weeks of intense quarantine that followed their last off-world mission and had done a good job at it until now. "Does being from Nebraska make me count as an alien? Because I'd like to abduct you for dinner tonight..."

Rodney swallowed hard, but his eyes were clearly glued to her cleavage. She smirked.

"I didn't thank you yet for saving me back then. If you hadn't fixed the shield generator..."

She left the sentence trailing off and smiled again, this time with gratitude.

"What do you think, Dr. McKay? Do you accept to be my prisoner?"

Not having time to plan her moves was a good thing. Not in a thousand years could she have pictured herself saying something like that to a man, and even worse, to a friend. However, what was done was done and Catherine could only hope that Rodney will see through her flirting well enough not to take it in the wrong way. For now, he seemed intent on seeing through her blouse.

o0o0o

John couldn't believe his ears. _Rodney_ was her hero?

He was about to comment on Rodney's actual contribution on that incident - which, though important, was nowhere near as active as she gave him credit - but decided against it. The current development was rather interesting and slightly amusing – the scientist's cluelessness around women was becoming proverbial. And Catherine was actively fighting for the man's attention.

He wondered if he should talk Ronon into a little bet. It would definitely make things interesting. Besides, maybe this time Rodney did find his match. They were both infuriatingly smart and with social skills to match.

There was still the little point of her not giving _him_ the light of day. He couldn't understand why she would be mad at him. The only thing he had done was to save her and all he got in return was the silent treatment. Back on the planet, he even though she might just like him at times, despite her prickliness, but no. As soon as they had returned to Atlantis, she had returned to being cold and distant around him – her old self, basically. He wondered if it had something to do with him not taking part in those uptight MENSA reunions she and Rodney seemed to enjoy so much.

"Of course he does," John jumped in for his friend.

He was pleased to see the scientist unglue his eyes from her cleavage and look at him in panic. He really wanted to see him wiggle his way out of this date.

"I guess it's alien enough," Rodney managed to say, his voice rising with discomfort, but trying to keep it in check. "And you are definitely attractive enough."

"And she isn't even citrus!" John really couldn't help himself.

Although she probably didn't understand what was wrong with lemons, Catherine continued to ignore him.

"Oh, thank you, Rodney!"

Her smile became even brighter as she leaned against Rodney and pressed her lips to his cheek.

"So it's a date. I'll wait for you in my room at... let's say 6 o'clock."

Catherine turned around, almost bumping into John and blushed. "Excuse me," she muttered, the smile gone and her cold expression back in its place. Avoiding to look at his face as usual, Catherine pushed him aside and headed to the door.

o0o0o

Rodney was starting to get a cramp in his neck from all the nodding he had been doing. Truth be told, he was finally speechless. He never really expected Catherine to be interested in him this way. She had been friendly, all right, but not like that. Besides, she seemed to be doing her best to ignore Sheppard's presence, which made it harder for him to drive onto a safer subject - their usual stabs and jabs at the Colonel's expense. There might have also been the question of her cleavage, which he could swear was aimed at him with military precision and efficiency. How could a man resist to that?

So, he nodded.

"You know, if you keep that up, you'll have to ask her for a neck-rub this evening as well. I never would have pegged you to be so devious."

Sheppard's little joke somehow went right over him, as he was absentmindedly stabbing at his food with the fork.

"Aren't you excited about your date? At all?" Sheppard insisted, sounding a little too interested in the matter.

Realization finally filled Rodney's eyes and he smiled. Maybe he knew Catherine a bit too well. "I am, why wouldn't I be? I finally have my sexy alien, for once."

This time, Sheppard said nothing. He just nodded in turn.

o0o0o

On the other hand, Catherine was at least as shocked as Dr. Rodney McKay. She hurried out of the mess hall, made a few steps on the hallway, then stopped abruptly and leaned against the wall, her heart racing like crazy.

She had just invited Rodney McKay for dinner... in her own room. Looking back, she couldn't imagine what in the world she was thinking and what made her do it, but hey, guess what? It was too late to step back.

Like most of the people who spent more time surrounded by samples and tubes than in the company of other human beings, Catherine was a very shy person. Of course, none of her subordinates ever had the chance to see that side of her but, after all, she was a good professional – and their boss. There was no point in making a show of her weaknesses – not if she wanted to earn their respect, despite her young age. And _that_ was a problem she had to deal with from very early in life.

The worst part was that she had always despised the flirtatious nurses - shiny butterflies wearing tons of make-up, fooling around and spending more energy on getting men's attention than on doing their job properly. She had always despised them... and ended up doing the exact same thing.

"Damn you, Sheppard! It's your fault I got myself in this situation!" she mumbled, biting her lower lip in frustration. What the hell had been wrong with her? One moment she was sitting at her table, annoyed by their little talk, and the next one she was posing as "femme fatale" and asking Dr. McKay out. She must have been out of her mind, really.

With a deep breath, she moved away from the wall and headed to the Infirmary. By the time she passed her small laboratory, her face showed nothing of the earlier turmoil and no one would have guessed she was on the verge of a panic attack.

Were she as serene as she looked, she would have never missed the sight of the cleaning lady who was disinfecting the lab's floor at the exact moment when Catherine was passing by. She was new in Atlantis – she had arrived only a few days before to help them with the house-keeping. Apparently, the IOA, so reticent to make big decisions, had suddenly concluded that a couple of extra hands to help keep Atlantis shiny were exactly what the expedition needed. At the time, she was probably the only person on base unaware that Catherine had forbidden anyone from going into the lab in her absence – especially after they had just broken quarantine.

She had almost finished her job and was about to leave the lab when she noticed a cup of coffee on the left corner of the desk and turned back to collect it. Whoever had left it there surely didn't intend to drink it cold, so she reached for the cup, knocking over a blood tube in the process. With a loud noise, the tube hit the floor, its content splashing all over.

The incident made her wash the floor for a second time that day. Not something she wished for or enjoyed, but, as it would turn out, that was the brightest part of her day.

The not-so-bright part had the shape of an alien pathogen that had finally found another human host and started to mutate.

o0o0o

Papers, papers and... more papers. After five hours of hard work, Catherine lost track of the number of forms, reports, receipts, inventories and registers she had filed, written or archived. The paperwork was the most obnoxious part of her job and she had tried to avoid it for days. The "lunch incident", however, made the paperwork look like bliss – the wording of the fucking forms was so bureaucratic it required her full attention to decipher it.

When she was finally done with the paperwork, the imminence of her date hit her and panic washed over her – what the hell was she supposed to wear on a _date_? She had only one dress – and she had to think hard to remember the color. It was probably blue – or green - and it definitely had nothing to do with tight leather and high heals. If Dr. MacKay really expected her to wear that kind of outfit, he was going to be _really_ disappointed.

It was too late to start cooking – assuming she was even able to cook in the first place – so she headed to the mess hall to grab something, anything, to eat. When she finally entered her room, Catherine was so panicky that she hoped Rodney will change his mind about her offer at the last minute.

And the dress wasn't green. It wasn't blue either. It was a nice violet, but the color wasn't the problem here. Putting it on, Catherine made an uncomfortable discovery – the dress was at least one size too small and _a lot_ shorter than she remembered.

So… still not leather, but definitely tight, she thought, looking at her mirror image with something akin to terror.

Perfect. Just... _perfect_.

o0o0o

At about the same hour, having solved most of the work he had for the day and a bit extra to see if he could procrastinate his way out of the date, Rodney realized there was little left to do and he still hadn't come up with any good ideas for the evening.

The thought of asking Sheppard for help passed through his mind, but it flew out just as fast. The last thing he needed was the wise and knowledgeable input of the said Colonel on the subject of dating. True, he did have better luck with the ladies than half the guys on Atlantis, but the captain Kirk approach never worked for Rodney.

He could ask Ronon for a few tips. The idea of a heart to heart talk with the proud warrior... The big guy didn't really... Well, he didn't really have to deal with women like Catherine.

Come to think of it, the way Rodney always chased after difficult or unavailable women was a bit worrying. He used to have a thing for dumb blondes and ended up falling for Samantha Carter. Needless to say, that didn't work out how he'd imagined it. Then, he switched to Katie Brown. OK, maybe Katie wasn't difficult or unavailable, but she certainly expected from him more than he could offer and dumped him when she understood that.

Damn it, whenever a woman showed any interest in him, he usually managed to screw things up. When the interest was mutual, it was even worse – and he was certainly interested in Dr. Spencer. She was brilliant, blonde and not interested in John "Captain Kirk" Sheppard – so she was definitely his type. This thought alone was frightening enough to cause him panic.

He hated to admit it, but he needed advice. That was why he was now knocking on Teyla's door, trying to look as calm and inconspicuous as he could.

"Teyla, can I have a word with you?"

The Athosian greeted him with a calm smile. "Of course, Rodney. What is it that worries you?"

"You know Dr. Spencer?"

Teyla raised one eyebrow. "Of course."

"She kind of invited me over for dinner tonight."

"Like a date?" Her voice was tinted with amusement.

Rodney hesitated and looked away. "You could call it that..."

"And what do you need to ask me? You have been on dates before, Rodney."

"And we all know how those worked out," he added sarcastically.

Teyla pat his shoulder. "Just be yourself. I doubt she'd settle for less than your sparkling personality."

"Great," he sighed. "More good advice. Be myself and rely on previous dating experience. You've been of great help." He turned to leave. "I think I'll have a word with Zelenka."

"And... Rodney," Teyla called after him. "Give her something."

"Something... like what?" he asked, completely clueless.

"I think flowers... or chocolate would do."

Rodney stopped and turned back.

"Chocolate? Chocolate, right," he muttered, cheering up a bit. "That might actually work." Thank God he always had a secret stash of tasty, Canadian chocolate.

"I'll talk to Zelenka anyway. For back-up, you know?"

She didn't, but Rodney was running out of time and didn't bother explaining.

"Good luck, Dr. McKay," she wished him as he hurried through the hallway in search of Zelenka.

o0o0o

In the middle of a sparing match, John decided it was about time to clue Ronon in on the recent events.

"Dr. Spencer asked Rodney to dinner tonight," he said casually, dodging a very well placed punch. "How long do you think it will take him to ruin this one?"

"McKay? With Dr. Spencer? _The_ Dr. Spencer?"

Ronon Dex looked at him in disbelief, the shadow of a smile flourishing on his lips. Although they were sparing for quite a while, he didn't even break a sweat. In fact, the big guy looked like he had just taken a walk in the park, only his defensive position betraying his current activity.

"Are you kiddin' me?"

John was panting with the effort, managing to miss every single blow.

"My bet is he wouldn't last fifteen minutes before messing up."

The smile on Ronon's face turned into a healthy laugh. He allowed John to hit him once so he could catch him off-guard and pin him down.

"You're clearly underestimating McKay," he said, helping John back on his feet. "I give him at least twenty. And if you lose, you have to fight me. Blindfolded."

John wasn't really a fan of those terms, and with good reason – Ronon needed no tactical advantage to beat him to a pulp. However, it looked like the warrior was in the mood to play rough. Of course, you had more chances to encounter a gentle-hearted Wraith than to see McKay lasting more than five minutes on a date with that particular woman without screwing it up. But hey! Every dog has his day, right?

He whipped his face on a towel, pondering his prize. "Fine. And if I win, you teach me how to do that... What you call it? That thing you did to the Wraith last time" The move would really come in handy, but a more devious thought crossed his mind. "And you get to babysit Dr. Spencer the next time she comes with us on a mission. This way, she might keep the heroics to a minimum."

Ronon looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

Babysit Dr. Spencer – probably not as bad as Sheppard made it sound, but McKay would better hold out for those twenty minutes. Now, he could have said sixteen, what had possessed him to say twenty? He had to picture again the hilarious image of John Sheppard fighting blindfolded before he nodded.

"All right, Sheppard. Next time I'll take the girl into my custody. After all, she's not that bad, you know? That's if you look closer."

Nonsense. The woman had attacked a Wraith with a pen knife. If that didn't spell 'suicidal', Ronon was really worried about her survival instinct.

"I only see one problem with your plan - how do we know who won the bet? You don't intend on going with him, now, do you?"

"Oh, I wouldn't call that a problem. I doubt he'd let me but in, but what he doesn't know, can't hurt him. Or me, for that matter." He was thinking of the very complicated, very intrusive Ancient surveillance system Zelenka had made operational by mistake. "All we need is to get to security."

o0o0o

Rodney had left Zelenka in a state of confusion he didn't really wish on anyone. At least, the Czech knew what to do and suspected nothing of why he was doing it. With his backup plan in place and a few minutes to spare, Rondey headed for Catherine's room.

He had no idea what she liked, but Teyla was right – no one could say _no_ to a box of chocolates. And these ones were even shaped like little maple leaves!

He decided against flowers, especially since he couldn't find any and she was probably as allergic to pollen as he was.

Trying to look calm and collected, he knocked on her door. If he called it off now... he'd probably prove he was as insensitive and egotistic as most people thought.

o0o0o

Catherine barely had time to put some make up on and set the food on the table when she heard the knocking.

Wasn't it too early?

She looked at the clock from the table and no, it wasn't. Twisting her pretty face into a grimace, Catherine took a last look in the mirror and headed to the door.

"Rodney?" she asked, although she knew it would be him.

For Christ's sake, he was a friend! Why all the shaking? Taking a deep breath, she mustered up all her courage and opened the door.

"Hey, Rodney! Come on in!"

"Hello!"

Her smile showed nothing of the internal tremor as she led him to the little table where the food was.

o0o0o

Rodney walked in, the box of chocolates in hand, and it didn't take more than a second to assess the whole room. It was tiny. How did Catherine end up in such a small room? There was barely enough space for a bed and table, no chairs, no other furniture. Somehow, he expected something a little larger. "This is… cozy," he blurted, trying hard not to look like he was staring at her – though the tight dress wasn't helping him there at all. Wasn't this supposed to be just a casual date between friends?

"I know my room isn't much to look at, but I guess you can sit next to me."

"It's quaint." He wasn't really sure what to say, but "Very... intimate, then."

The whole thing was awkward, but Catherine didn't seem to notice and sat down on the edge of the bed. She certainly looked more confident than he felt and he couldn't really blame her. She looked gorgeous in that form-fitting dress, her legs looking longer than he remembered and her breasts… maybe he should stay away from that part of her anatomy for the time being.

Awkward and fascinated at the same time, he sat down as well. On the edge of the bed. As far to the other end as the little table permitted.

"So..."

o0o0o

John had convinced the tech in charge of the surveillance system to let him and Ronon take a look. "A routine check," he served him, and it worked. The man gave him a quick overview of the commands and left them alone to perform their 'routine check'. It was probably best he hadn't noticed the large bag John was carrying, stuffed with popcorn. He wished he had brought some beer as well, but he was already breaking enough rules as it was.

"Wasn't she supposed to have Carson's old room?" he asked, seeing the little quarter for the first time on screen. "That would explain some of her problems."

"I don't know. Maybe she didn't want it," Ronon said with a shrug. There was a spark of curiosity in his eyes as he watched Rodney's awkward interactions with the doctor.

He was carrying a box of chocolates and his lips were moving. Damn, there was no sound.

"She cleans up nice," John mumbled around the fistful of popcorn he stuffed into his mouth. He tried a few commands, hoping to get the sound on, but almost lost the image as well, so he decided it was best to settle for what they could get.

Without losing the screen from sight, Ronon pulled a chair and made himself comfortable, his feet on the table.

"What's he doing?" John shook his head disapprovingly.

"McKay, give her the chocolates! Don't just sit there!" Ronon cheered on, probably keen on whooping John's ass again. "Come on, McKay! I know you'd enjoy seeing me win this!"

John raised an eyebrow – his partner in crime was getting a bit too enthusiastic with the cheering and it kind of scared him. "You kick my ass anyway. Why are you so excited by this prospect?"

"But then you wouldn't know what hit you," he said, grinning. "Besides, McKay needs all the cheering he can get – he's an embarrassment to us all!"

John had to agree with him at least on the last part. What was Rodney thinking, staring like a frightened chicken?

o0o0o

After about five minutes of very awkward silence, Catherine finally looked at him and noticed the box in his hand. A little smile flourished in the corner of her mouth. Finally somewhere to start a conversation!

"Am I safe to presume these were for me? You are so considerate, Rodney!"

"These? Of course. Here," he offered, a bit startled, as if he had just snapped out of a trance.

She hated sweets, but took them regardless and offered him an enchanting smile. The makeup did wonders and Catherine was almost pleased with the somewhat grownup appearance it gave her.

OK... Now what? She liked Rodney, she really did, but she had no clue how to take charge of this whole… date… thing. Wasn't the guy usually supposed to lead? Not that she was old fashioned, but a hint? No? Nothing? _Damn!_

So… common interest, right? That's what you're supposed to talk about on a date! Let's see… Cancer research? No. Pathogen agents? Definitely no! ZPMs? She had absolutely no clue about how they worked and didn't really want a lecture on the subject right now. Maybe something more… neutral. Food. No way, he had a mile long list of stuff he couldn't or wouldn't eat and another one of stuff he shouldn't, but was crazy about anyway – he was the only person she knew who actually _liked_ hospital food. It was depressing even for her. While her mind was slowly discarding possible subjects of conversation, the silence in the room was growing thicker so she had no choice but to jump on the next subject that presented itself.

"I want to... I was very interested to... you know... I would be very interested to take lessons from you. I was always passionate about astrophysics and mechanics... and I wondered if you could... Of course, when you have enough spare time and..."

_'I am idiot. I am a hopeless idiot.'_

"Really? I guess I can find some time to answer your questions. We'll see."

A few more moments of silence.

They had barely touched the food and she was beginning to feel silly. If it weren't for the 'date' label, this should have been a perfectly enjoyable dinner. She should have imagined it would turn out like this the moment she made the invitation. If Rodney had imagined sexy aliens, he was probably disappointed by her performance.

"Listen," she said, turning to face him. "I'm not entirely sure how this is supposed to play out, so why don't we just ignore the date aspect of the thing. OK?"

"I don't know how to do this either, so we have a deal," Rodney answered and finally seemed to relax a little. He even came up with a more inspired subject. "Sheppard really gets to you, doesn't he? I'm only saying because, at lunch, you really pounced on him." He chuckled at the thought. "And it wasn't even the kind of pouncing women usually do around him."

o0o0o

John almost felt sorry for Rodney. He couldn't bear to watch him there, helpless and lost for words. So he grabbed another handful of popcorn to distract himself.

"Finally! It sure took you a while to remember the chocolates," Ronon grumbled, forgetting about the popcorn.

After five long minutes of silence and the rocky start of the conversation, the odds were stacked in John's favor and he knew it. "I'm starting to doubt he'll even get fifteen minutes. It took them five minutes to start talking, if you can call that a conversation. They didn't even start eating yet! Love doves they sure aren't!"

He eyed Ronon, waiting for a retort, but the big guy looked as stoic as someone spying on his friend while munching on popcorn could look.

o0o0o

"Oh, I can imagine," she said, rolling her eyes in a very expressive manner.

And indeed, she could. Although Catherine didn't show much interest in gossip, it was impossible not to notice the kind of attention John Sheppard received. Put this way, it was no surprise he was acting like some sort of intergalactic Casanova, but this was definitely not bringing points in his favor.

"I can't stand him," she confessed, suddenly animated, and turned to Rodney. "Always trying to show in how many ways he's better than anyone else and how he'll save the day like the hero he is. Oh, and Mariko... do you know Mariko? She's one of the nurses, doesn't matter. She's madly in love with him; I even caught her taking photos with him while he was _unconscious_! Can you believe it?"

The story _was_ true. Just as true was the fact that Catherine would have fired her afterward, had they been on Earth. Not that she objected to the woman showing interest in him, but taking pictures of an unconscious patient? That was simply unprofessional.

"Do you remember Caroline?" she continued. "The short one, with blue eyes and blond hair from the scientific department? You won't believe me, but she actually had a _poste_ r with him on the wall! I found out when I asked her to help me fix my radio. Where did she even _get that?_ "

She started laughing, though it was tinted with nervousness.

"I've seen people like him my entire life. My... father was in the military and he fought in Vietnam... Hence, I had the opportunity to encounter enough marines and flyboys for a lifetime. Guess why I'm currently single."

Rodney seemed very amused at Catherine's indignation. "Caroline? She almost started a fan club for the guy!" he supplied. "It would have worked too, if he hadn't found out. You should have seen the look on his face when he found the pictures!" Even before he finished the last sentence, he was shaking with laughter. Though she had no idea why, Catherine joined in.

"And if you think our girls are bad enough, you should really see his off world harem!" He had to stop for breath. "He suffers from Captain Kirk syndrome. I won't bore you with the whole list, but you've already heard of Larrin. Seriously! The guy has all the luck! I sometimes think all the women in the galaxy are after him."

"Not _all_ of them," she pointed out, quirking an eyebrow.

Rodney gave Catherine a measuring look. "They all seem to have developed a strange attraction to his ass. Albeit, some just want to kick, shoot or stab it." Pondering for a moment, he added, "Even ascended women can't seem to resist him. I think it's the hair."

o0o0o

Elizabeth Weir had been having a particular bad day. After a stupid video conference with the IOA she had been informed that the Dedalus hadn't left Earth just yet and there was no new development about the new doctor. She closed the laptop and walked out of her office only to bump into someone she didn't expect to see around the base just yet.

o0o0o

The new development took John completely by surprise. He supposed he should feel proud of McKay – he was his friend, after all – but he discovered he couldn't. He just watched the screen in confusion, hardly believing his eyes.

"Seven, Sheppard. Seven more minutes, and you lose the bet," Ronon reminded him.

Catherine was laughing and John couldn't help noticing her dimples. What in the world did he tell her to make her laugh like that? If he could only fix the sound!

"Plenty of time for him to screw up, trust me," he commented absentmindedly. Was it possible that those two really made a good pair? Birds of a feather and all that?

"If you say so..." Ronon replied, visibly amused, and took a handful of popcorn.

"Do you think they make a good couple? Dr. Spencer-"

"Colonel Sheppard?" Zelenka asked through the radio, cutting him short.

"Yeah?" he answered, keeping his eyes on the screen. "What is it, Zelenka?"

"Do you happen to know where Dr. McKay is? I tried to contact him on the radio and apparently he's offline."

"Sheppard, if you tell him, you cheat and I win," he heard Ronon whispering. "You have no idea where McKay is, tell him."

o0o0o

"Oh, I think they're just stupid," Catherine said, no trace of humor in her voice. "Wait, _ascended_ woman? I've always thought only Ancients have reached ascension."

Ancients and Daniel Jackson, but that was an unverified story from her medical point of view. Anyway, you'd expect more from someone that came back from a higher plain of existence than to fall for a human flyboy.

"But she _was_ an Ancient," Rodney confirmed. "Certainly didn't look like one, but..."

Right. Fan club. Off-world harem. Not-so-ancient Ancients chasing after his ass. No wonder the guy was acting like Don Juan reloaded!

Catherine was well aware that she was acting out of character – talking about him behind his back – but she just couldn't decide to drop the subject. It must have had something to do with the lack of better subjects.

"The wraith queens seem to be the only species missing from his conquest list. Can you imagine what will happen if they'll start developing the same inexplicable attraction for dear Colonel Sheppard? Wait, that would make him king, wouldn't it? Ew!"

Still laughing, Catherine pointed to a cherry-looking fruit she brought from the kitchen.

"Taste this, it's delicious," she invited Rodney. "I think Teyla brought it from some planet she visited."

Without giving much thought to what she was doing, she reached for the fruit and put it in Rodney's mouth. As his lips touched her fingers, she could swear the temperature in the room rose at least four degrees. She swallowed hard, suddenly very aware that he was gazing at her face, and took a deep breath.

Trying to avoid eye-contact, a little light spot from the ceiling drew her attention. At first, she looked at it out of the corner of her eye, trying to remember if she had ever seen it before, then the answer hit her and made her heart beat faster. She knew what it was... and it shouldn't have been there.

"What's wrong?" Rodney asked, still chewing. He glanced up to the spot on the ceiling where she was looking. It did strike him as suspicious and a bit familiar.

"He wouldn't!"

o0o0o

"Nope, not really," John answered to Zelenka, ignoring Ronon. "What do you need him for?"

He absentmindedly zoomed in and nearly choked when he saw Rodney bite the fruit Catherine was offering.

"What the-?"

"Are you OK, Colonel?" Zelenka asked, worried by the noises he could hear over radio.

"Fine. Fine," he said, catching his breath. He raised his eyes to Ronon, looking for the same shocked look that was currently gracing his features. "Why did you say you needed him?"

"He asked me to find him at twenty past six about a thing..."

o0o0o

"Don't look at it!" she snarled, quickly embracing him to hide his reaction. It looked like Rodney had reached the same conclusion as her.

A few weeks ago, they lost a member of Team 2. He had locked himself in his room after returning from an off-world expedition and was found dead a few hours later when the door was forced open. Had they had proper warning, they might have been able to save him. This was Catherine's personal encounter with the problem. Over the past few months, since before she joined Atlantis, there had been some other similar cases – people coming back injured or infected after off-world missions and not heading to the infirmary on time – usually it resulted in a few weeks under strict supervision and lots of medication.

Before last week's failed mission that had been the only patient Catherine had lost and of course she took it to heart. She was not, however, the only one blaming herself for it. Elizabeth had asked Zelenka and Rodney to devise a hybrid security system that worked in tandem with the Ancient one. They had attached video surveillance to the existing sensors, but they were to be activated _only_ in exceptional cases. Dr. Weir had taken full responsibility for the move.

_Exceptional cases._ Then why on Earth (or possibly Atlantis) were the cameras working now? One explanation would be that someone was playing with them, someone that wasn't supposed to be there, in the surveillance room. And she knew only one person who could and would do such a thing.

"Sheppard?" she muttered, still embracing a very embarrassed Rodney.

"Who else?"

She felt a cold anger rising up inside her and her fists clenched. There was no way someone like him could be interested in her date with Rodney for other reason than poking fun. Poking fun at _her_. The very thought was sickening. Suddenly, she felt foolish in her violet, tight dress, trying to play a role that fit about as well as the dress.

So he wanted a show, did he? Well, who was she to refuse him, Catherine thought, suddenly deciding what to do.

"I'm sorry, Rodney!" she whispered, pulling him closer to her and brushing her lips softly against his.

For a second, Rodney seemed too shocked to respond and she was even afraid he would reject her. He didn't and, as instinct took over, he even deepened the kiss. She ran a hand through his hair and held him tighter as her heart started to pound just a little bit faster.

_He is only a friend_ , she reminded herself, but didn't break away. Their lips brushed apart for a split second before he took over and deepened the kiss even more. For a moment, she almost forgot about the pesky camera and the person behind it. She shut her eyes and she let herself distracted by the wonderful sensation of his lips over hers.

o0o0o

Somewhere, on the other side of Atlantis, the one responsible for the kiss (although completely unaware of the part he played in it) nearly fell off his chair at the sight. "If... If he said he needs to talk to you..." he stuttered, "I guess there's no problem. He's..."

His eyes focused back on the screen, still not fully trusting them. Were those two really _kissing_?

"He should be in Dr. Spencer's room," he said, before Ronon could stop him.

"What's he doing there?" Zelenka asked in disbelief.

"I can't say. I really can't," John answered, eyes glued to the screen and put the radio down, putting an end to conversation.

"You lost!" Ronon exclaimed and jumped on his feet. "And there were ... almost another three minutes before time ran out! Not that you'd have stood a chance. By the way," he added, patting John on the shoulder and pointing to the screen "They're kissing."

His smirk was easily getting annoying. "When would you like to fight me?"

John tried not to think too hard about Ronon's words. He knew what was coming and there was no reason to dwell on it. The sooner they got it over with, the better it will be for his mental and physical health. Besides, he felt like he needed a good fight, although he couldn't understand the reason.

Unnoticed, a tall and serious woman stopped three feet away and gave them a disapproving look. Too absorbed in watching the love birds and thinking about fighting Ronon, John failed to notice her before she put her hand on his shoulder.

Without turning, he offered her the bag of popcorn. "It took you a while to show up. Almost missed the show. Too late for betting though. You'd have had to wait in line after Ronon to kick my ass, anyway," he said, thinking it was Teyla he was talking to.

o0o0o

As the kiss grew more and more heated, Rodney would have wondered how far Catherine was going to go, but to do that, he needed full control over his brain cells, which he hadn't.

Then, there was a knock on the door. When neither of them answered, there was another one, a little louder, followed by Zalenka's voice. "Dr. Spencer, is Rodney with you?"

_'Shit_ ' Rodney said to himself, realizing he forgot to warn Radek not to look for him anymore. On the other hand, he was pretty sure that, if he'd be in real trouble, the Czech would be nowhere in sight.

"He needs to check something in the lab," Zelenka insisted, completely oblivious to his part in Rodney's discarded backup plan.

o0o0o

"John, can you explain what is happening here?"

Elizabeth Weir's voice was anything but friendly and the serious expression of her face betrayed a trace of fury.

From the moment she had seen Claymore, the technician from the surveillance room, wandering around near her office she had suspected something was wrong. Suspicion that became certitude once she found out that John Sheppard and Ronon were performing a _routine_ check of the surveillance equipment. Since when did they gain the technical expertise necessary to perform _any_ kind of check on any type of electronic system?

The popcorn was certainly a new qualification the two had gained and it was more than unexpected. So was the image on the screen, but that needn't bother her.

"I think Ronon will have to wait a while, Colonel. We'll have to talk about this... routine check."

"You wouldn't believe me if I said I can explain, would you?"

Elizabeth gave him a sharp, warning look.

"Maybe I should keep quiet."

o0o0o

Rodney was mentally kicking himself. He just _had_ to go and asked Zelenka for help. When had that not backfired on him? Why had he even for one second believed it was a good idea to have him stop the date?

As if guessing his thoughts, Catherine broke the kiss and bit her lower lip in frustration.

"I guess you should go check what's wrong," she said, carefully avoiding his gaze. Maybe it was just him, but she seemed a little too cold – like she was disappointed in him – and Rodney couldn't help but feeling relieved that at least she didn't know his part in the whole mess.

Unfortunately, it took her less than two seconds to put two and two together and ask the right question.

"Rodney, how did Zelenka know where to find you?"

Damn. He should have known she was far too smart to be fooled by such a lame plan. What the hell was he thinking?

"We were working on... something this morning," he said awkwardly, walking towards the door. "I asked him to call me the moment the results were in and I forgot my ear-piece in the lab."

"Oh," was all she said. She didn't sound too convinced and, as he waved his hand in front of the door panel, Rodney felt a tug on his heartstrings. He had screwed it again – and this time, it was his fault and his fault only. With the image of a disappointed Catherine still lingering in his mind, he opened the door and felt almost satisfied to see Radek's innocent smile faltering at his sight.

"I didn't know I was interrupting. You could have called in and told me not to bother you."

Annoyance rose to new heights for Rodney. "I should have, shouldn't I?"

_Something is terribly wrong_ , Rodney thought, without quite being able to put his finger on it. He stared at Radek for a moment and then the puzzle pieces fit together.

"Radek, how did you know where to find me?" he repeated Catherine's question. "I forgot to tell you I was having dinner with Dr. Spencer."

"I looked for you all over. I had to ask Colonel Sheppard where to find you."

"Of course he told you!"

Behind him, Catherine stared at them and said nothing.

o0o0o

"I can't wait to hear how you're going to explain this one away. I guess you had a very good reason to... hm..." - Elizabeth peered at the screen - "spy on Rodney and Dr. Spencer."

As Ronon was trying to escape, she turned to him and gave him one of her angry looks that could make stone go wobbly.

"I didn't say you could leave, Ronon. And I'm still waiting for whatever you have to say. And _turn that off_ already!" she ordered, making John jump to the commands.

"We... we thought Rodney might need some moral support..."

He tried to turn off the monitor as inconspicuously as possible, but kept hitting the wrong commands.

"We couldn't just leave him alone with her. Who knows what she might have done?" he insisted.

One more desperate attempt to shut down the monitor ended in success. Sort of. He wasn't entirely sure about it, but he may have turned off the entire system. It wouldn't take them too long to get it online again, right?

Elizabeth gave him a suspicious look then her eyes moved on the popcorn.

"Yes. I am sure you had nothing else in mind."

"You see, there-" John began to explain, but was cut off by a voice in his ear-piece.

"John, did you turn on surveillance in Dr. Spencer's room?" asked Rodney on Zelenka's radio.

How the hell did he know that? Did he know all along? Did Dr. Spencer know? He couldn't venture to ask any of that with Elizabeth watching over them like a hawk.

"Not technically." At least that wasn't a lie. He had the technician turn it on for him.

"But you have been watching." Rodney's voice was threateningly calm.

"Would you mind waiting until after Dr. Weir is done here. You might want to wait until after Ronon's done as well," John suggested

"Wait! Ronon's in on this too? I hope they're quick, I'm already on my way."

Rodney gave Zelenka his ear-piece back and continued to stomp his way to the surveillance room.

Left to herself, Catherine decided it was better to catch up on some work in the Infirmary than to wait in her room alone or follow the two and confront Sheppard. She'd have time for that later, when she'd feel mentally prepared to face him.

o0o0o

Elizabeth should probably have felt surprised and/or insulted to find two important members of the expedition behaving like silly teenagers caught in a ridiculous prank war – maybe if it had been anyone other than John, who had earned himself quite a reputation for pulling silly stunts in his time off, she wouldn't have taken it as well as she was obviously taking it. She obviously knew that, when necessary, John could be depended on to act like a serious, responsible adult.

He was as serious as a grown man betting on the romantic success of a friend could be.

With said friend on his way, things were promising to get rather interesting.

She did give him a stony stare, however, before shaking her head. "John, I doubt I need to tell you how many levels of wrong this little… _amusement_ has reached. An apology would be in order to all those affected."

John cleared his throat nervously. He felt oddly like a chided teenager and wasn't sure he liked the direction this conversation was heading. Uncomfortable as it was, he had to admit he might have taken this a bit too far by actively ruining Rodney's date, but he just couldn't bring himself to regret it.

"Yeah…" he said, "I should apologize and I _am_ sorry." Mostly, he had to admit, about losing to Ronon and getting caught. "Knowing Dr. Spencer, she'll have my head on a plate for this. Maybe you should appoint a new military leader in case I don't come back from this suicidal mission." Although, if the dear doctor knew they were being watched, one had to wonder who was pranking who in this little game.

Elizabeth refused to accept his attempt at lightening the mood, turning her attention on Ronon. Her lips pursed, she measured him from head to toe, shaking her head disapprovingly. John couldn't say he was sorry he was no longer the object of her scrutiny.

Less than a minute later, the door opened again and the degree of annoyance alone was enough to tell him who it was.

"Now, what exactly were you up to?" Rodney sounded irritated, but not as angry as John would have expected. Then, he noticed Elizabeth was there. "Oh, hello, Dr. Weir! Please don't tell me you were in on this, too!"

She shook her head and, looking uncomfortable, excused herself. "I'll leave them to you, Rodney."

"How'd you get here so fast?" John asked in genuine surprise after the door closed behind Elizabeth, leaving him and Ronon alone with Rodney and a vaguely confused and amused Zelenka who seemed to have tagged along for the ride.

"We used the transporters."

The smile on Rodney's lips was getting wider and more disturbing. He noticed the popcorn and pointed to it. "May I?" he asked, but didn't wait for a reply before taking a handful and eating it.

"I'm still waiting for an explanation, you know," the scientist prompted, chewing on the popcorn.

Sighing, John admitted defeat. "We had a little bet running. I would have won, too, if Zelenka had managed to find you on time. How could you ask him to bail you out of a date and forget to tell him where you'd be?"

Zelenka looked shocked. "Rodney?"

Rodney switched on the defensive. "I did not! I just needed to check on... a... thing..."

"Rodney." Zelenka's voice was starting to take on a hint of warning.

"Really, now," John insisted. "How inconvenient, then, that he had to turn up looking for you when he did." He was resorting to sarcasm, frustrated that Zelenka's timing really was inconvenient as hell – too early for Rodney and too late to be of any help to John.

"That's beside the point!" Rodney snapped. "Why were you even nosing around in the first place?" he asked, jabbing his index finger into John's chest, popcorn still clutched in his hand.

"Dr. McKay, may I please return to my work?" Zelenka interrupted, checking his watch. "It has been fun watching you get riled up, but some of us do have work to do." Though his curiosity was plastered all over his face, he left without waiting for an answer.

"I really should apologize to Dr. Spencer about this, too." Dodging Rodney's finger, John headed after Zelenka, without really intending to follow through on that. He needed a bit more courage before he could face the dear doctor. Maybe after a short nap and a beer or two.

Rodney stuffed the rest of the popcorn into his mouth, chewed, swallowed and focused on Ronon. "Maybe you can give a better account."

The door shut behind John before he could hear what the big guy came up with, but he was pretty sure Ronon was safe enough.

o0o0o

After washing off the blood and cleaning up the glass shards off the lab floor, the cleaning lady gave little thought to the incident. Violet was a busy woman, after all, even if she generally went unnoticed around the base. First, she was needed in the Mess hall where they were always short on cleaning staff, then she had to talk with Dr. Weir about some of her job attributions – it seemed like the IOA thought a place the size of Atlantis kept itself clean and the handful of cleaning staff that had been assigned to the expedition were there just as a "friendly interface", not really necessary at all – and thought she did good work at convincing her that there weren't enough people to handle the mundane tasks like moping, sweeping or dusting.

Speaking of which, cleaning up the science lab was one of her least favorite activities – the place was a pigs' sty. Brilliant minds, her ass! They could at least try not to spill coffee all over the place and eat like normal people. Take Dr. McKay's desk – blue jelly all over the keyboard, crumbs on and under the desk, a dark coffee ring on the top page of whatever document he had been working on and at least five coffee mugs stashed behind his monitor. This was the sort of stuff she had to deal with on a daily basis and no one thought twice about it.

Now, Dr. Zelenka's desk was a dream to work with – a bit of dust, two coffee mugs (one still half-full and neatly placed at a reasonable distance from the keyboard) and no food scraps in sight. The man himself wasn't bad either. In fact, compared to his colleague, he was the very image of chivalry and politeness, never causing her any trouble.

By the time she was done with her work for the day, it was already late in the evening, but she still found her friend Stephanie working at the Infirmary. After a day stuck doing paperwork, the nurse was more than grateful for the cup of coffee and the chance to exchange some gossip. Even transported to a different galaxy, there were some things women could never let go of and they made life seem more normal for everyone.

As a matter of fact, Stephanie was the one to notice the little cut on her finger. She must have caught it in a shard from that blasted test tube that morning, but it was almost healed already, so neither paid much attention to it. Least of all when John Sheppard walked in, looking for Dr. Spencer and looking rather relieved when he didn't find her. This got the two women started on a long running debate concerning how good of a match the Colonel would make with the young doctor – it was one of the few things that got the two friends arguing from opposite corners.

o0o0o

John honestly intended to apologize to Dr. Spencer for ruining her romantic evening. As a matter of fact, he even looked for her in the Infirmary, so no one could blame him for not trying.

No one – except for the little, traitorous voice inside his head that continued to nag him through the night, telling him he didn't actually do his best to find her and talk to her. That, and an inexplicable need to find out if she actually knew he was watching her as she kissed Rodney, made him look for her again the next day. This time, he decided to start with her room – taking into account the early hour, it was most likely to find her still sleeping. This presented a serious advantage: a sleepy woman was less dangerous than a tired, grumpy one - or at least he liked to think so.

After knocking for the fourth time on her door without any answer, he decided she either wasn't there or didn't want to see him at all. Either way, there was no point for him to insist any further, so he headed for her small laboratory, knowing she couldn't possibly be there at that hour.

To his utter surprise, the lights of the small lab were up and, by the noises inside, he could tell that someone was there.

"Dr. Spencer?" he called. There was no answer, but, suddenly, the noises stopped, so he tried again. "May I come in?"

Again, no answer. It looked like the dear doctor had decided to make things even harder for him and the thought made him frown in sheer annoyance.

"Dr. Spencer?" he tried again, waving his hand in front of the panel. The door opened with a swoosh and he entered the lab, feeling a bit uneasy for coming in uninvited.

There she was - sitting on a chair, with her face hidden behind her hands, looking like she hadn't even heard him. He moved closer to her and gently put a hand on her shoulder.

"Dr. Spencer, are you all right?" he asked her, annoyance replaced by worry.

She took a deep breath before turning to him. She looked exhausted and disoriented, like she was having trouble in recognizing him.

"Colonel Sheppard," she finally said. "I didn't hear you come in."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." He removed his hand from her shoulder and continued to look at her. Something was definitely wrong, John thought, but it took him a few moments to figure it out. He expected her to be mad with him after the whole story of him ruining her date – but, instead of angry, she looked rather relieved to see him.

"What happened, Colonel?"

"Nothing. I'm here to apologize for yesterday. I would have come sooner, but I wasn't sure you wanted to see me."

"I see. For a moment, I thought... never mind."

She turned back to her microscope, leaving him rather confused. He wanted to know what was troubling her, but he didn't feel like insisting, so he asked the first thing that came through his mind.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm just very tired... I tried to sleep, but it looks like sleep is avoiding me. And I'm not entirely sure, but one of the test-tubes seems to be missing. That's strange since I don't normally misplace stuff, especially not deadly pathogens."

John hoped she was kidding, but she certainly didn't look like it. There was also the chance she was too tired to remember where she last put it and there was a simple solution for that. "How about we go have some coffee?" he offered, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Are you asking me out, Colonel?" There was no annoyance in her voice, just plain exhaustion.

"Merely a peace offering," he assured her and he finally realized what felt so off about her – she was burning up. She was radiating heat even through her clothes. This was more than a bad night's sleep. "Or maybe I should get you some hot tea. You're burning up."

She absently reached up and touched her own forehead. "Shit!" She stood up, clenching a hand in his sleeve. "I need to get to the Infirmary and run a complete scan."

"For what?" He was worried. Before she could enlighten him, her knees wobbled and gave under her. Thank God for quick reflexes, as he caught her before she lost her balance completely and sat her back in her chair, keeping a steadying hand on her shoulder. "Take it easy."

"You don't understand! You have to get out of here. I might be-" Her phrase was cut off by the blaring of alarms and, before they had time to react, the doors sealed shut.

o0o0o

Alone in the surveillance room, Rodney was just checking that everything was back online and functioning when an alert popped up on the screen. Apparently one of the sensors had been inactive since before John played around with them since worrying red dots appeared all over the map of the city.

From here he could also see all access areas closing down and isolating the affected zones. It didn't take long to recognize Atlantis' built in quarantine system.

What surprised him was that he didn't show on the screen.

Out of reflex, he touched his forehead with his hand. It wasn't exactly a fever. He'd been under a lot of pressure that evening and he'd done some running – that must have been it.

He reached for the spare radio which was usually there and called Dr Weir. "Elizabeth? I think we may have a problem. The City's initiated lockdown"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stick around and don’t forget to review ^__^


	3. Episode 3: Quarantine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Neither of us has any medical training, so if there's anything wrong with the medical side of things, we apologize. Mary did a disturbing amount of research on the topic, but by the time we got to the last round of edits, no one even remembered writing half of this stuff :(

**Episode 3: Quarantine**

“Would you calm down for a second?” Colonel Sheppard rushed for the door and tried to force it open. It didn’t move an inch.

“Damn it!”

She jumped on her feet and followed him, covering her ears with her hands. It did nothing against the horrible screaming of the alarm. “Has the city initiated the lockdown?”

Grimacing, he nodded in confirmation and turned his radio on.

“Rodney,” he called. “You’d better not be behind this. McKay?”

After a few long, tormenting seconds of static, the radio came alive and they heard the high, panicked pitch of a familiar voice.

“If I were, there wouldn't be the alarm blasting away now, would it?”

“Then what's going on?”

“I don’t know yet, but I’m on it. Where are you?”

Catherine caught his eyes and sighed in annoyance. It really wasn’t the time for this kind of things. Impatiently, she touched her own radio. “Rodney, Colonel Sheppard is in my lab, he came to apologize for... earlier. I need you to focus on what caused the lockdown. I cannot stress enough how important this is.”

She turned off the radio and took a deep breath, carefully avoiding to look his way.

“I suspect it might be an outbreak caused by the same virus that killed everyone on MH6 - 98U,” she confessed. The thought was almost unbearable.

She swallowed nervously and forced her panic aside with the grim perspective of what might happen if she let herself overwhelmed. The fate of the whole expedition could hang in the balance. No, she couldn’t afford any weakness. Not now.

She took another deep, painful breath.

“But I remember you telling Dr. Weir we weren’t infected,” she heard Colonel Sheppard saying. It sounded like he was accusing her of something, like he held her responsible for all the mess. She clenched her fists and gave him a stern, cold look.

“And we were _not_ , Colonel. We’d be dead by now if we were.” She paused. “As far as I can tell, the virus doesn't kill by itself. It practically devours the immune system and leaves you exposed to any kind of infections or tumours. It’s very similar to AIDS, only a lot faster and more efficient. Actually, it looks so perfect it has to be artificial. It brings your immune system to zero within hours and gives you next to 1% chance of survival in a normal environment.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I remember you saying it wasn’t airborne.”

She shook her head. “True, but on MH6 - 98U it was very much so. What saved us is an antibody that prevented it from infecting our macrophage and dendritic cells. I believe it might be the CD4, which is a glycoprotein found on the surface of immune cells, or maybe – but this is just an untested theory - our monocytes are slightly different-”

She stopped and looked at the Colonel, who seemed rather confuse, and allowed herself a half-smile.

“I’m just like Rodney, isn’t it?”

“No, you look better on heels.” He grinned. Well, good to know he could still joke around.

“Let me see if I understood correctly. You’re saying that our immune system is different from-”

“That’s right. The virus should have mutated to a more infectious strain to infect us the way it did with the people on MH6 - 98U.” She shrugged. “But for that to happen, it must have had a direct contact with our blood - and it hadn’t. Not unless-”

She stopped abruptly and stared at the remaining tubes.

“Unless what?” he insisted.

“Unless whoever took the damn sample had an injury – let’s say a scratch – and that scratch came in direct contact with the infected blood.”

“Is that possible?”

She nodded. “I’m afraid so, yes.”

Before he could answer, the radio came alive once again.

“Sheppard, do you remember that thing with the nanites?” This time, Rodney’s voice sounded like he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

He gave her a quick, worried glance. “A bit more vividly than I wish I did,” he said.

Catherine’s face turned from pale to livid, but she kept quiet.

“This time, the infection seems to be present all over the city. Do you have any idea on what this is?”

“How far has it spread?”

“From the scanners, it looks like 80% of the base is infected.” He paused. “You seem to be fine, but... Catherine is part of that 80%. John, what is this?”

“Give me a second.”

He turned off the radio and looked at her. “Are you sure it’s the same virus?”

She shrugged. “I won’t know that for sure before I run a test on my blood.”

“And if it is?”

“If it is... I have less than 48 hours to find a cure, so I’d better start working.”

Ten minutes later, her suspicion proved to be true.

“Come,” she called, almost cheerfully. “I’ll give you something that might prevent the infection. I doubt it will work, but it’s still worth a try.”

She noticed the surprise in his eyes and felt grateful he wasn’t Daniel. The archaeologist knew her too damn well – he would’ve seen her coolness as a first sign of panic. After all, despite her theories, she had no clue where to start from. She didn't have enough time to work on a cure. She might never have it.

o0o0o

John took the pills from her hand and downed them without water. He couldn't afford to lose his cool now, but it was easier said than done.

He turned his radio on. “Rodney, I have more bad news, I'm afraid.”

After a long pause, a familiar, hesitant voice came from the speaker. “Worse than being locked up in a small room without any food?”

“Much worse. Remember MH6 - 98U?”

“Yeah, though it's not one of my fondest memories.”

“Dr. Spencer says that whatever killed the people there has infected us.” There was no need for details - McKay had seen firsthand what the people of MH6 - 98U had gone through.

John kept a worried eye on Catherine, whose calm confidence was even more worrying than the threat posed by the virus.

“Sheppard, can you ask her if it also spreads through saliva?”

“How considerate of you, Casanova,” he muttered, rolling his eyes in sheer annoyance. If she heard anything, Catherine didn’t seem remotely concerned.

“What did she say?” Rodney insisted.

“How about you stop asking stupid questions and start finding a way to get us out of here?” he suggested and turned off the damn thing.

Bended over a huge microscope, Catherine seemed small and fragile and John had to remind himself she was one of the best virologists out there and probably their best chance for survival. He wished Carson were still alive.

“Dr. Spencer? Let me know if I can help you with anything,” he offered. “And let’s hope Rodney will find a way to put you in contact with the rest of your team.”

At this point, he had little faith in a cure, but he needed something – anything - to keep his mind off the vivid picture Catherine's words had painted in his head.

o0o0o

“Rodney, this is Elizabeth Weir. Do you read?”

Elizabeth's voice was as composed as usual, only a bit louder. With the radio in one hand, she moved to the door and tried to open it, without any success. It was like having déjà vu.

“We're quarantined,” she whispered, the realization hitting her. “Rodney, can you hear me? The city has initiated lockdown, do you have any idea what's going on?”

She waited a few more seconds before switching the radio to another frequency. It was not the first time she had seen the city in quarantine. It usually was for a good reason and it usually involved a medical emergency.

She had to get in touch with someone.

“John? Come in, this is Elizabeth Weir. Is Dr. Spencer with you?” she tried again.

She only got static.

o0o0o

This city had the bad habit of launching general lockdown whenever an internal threat was perceived. Not that it was a bad plan, not as such. The timing was generally awful and the people needed to solve the problem were usually stuck in places they couldn't help from. The Ancients couldn't have been that bad strategists. Ten thousand years, though...

Ten thousand years left Atlantis with a handful of people who could barely decipher _some_ of the instructions left by the highly well organized Ancients, none of which were ever locked in the appropriate places when quarantine was instated. Fortunately for Teyla, it didn't really matter where she got locked in as long as she didn't have to share a confined space with Colonel Sheppard again. There was just so much a girl could take of his company when under enough stress and pressure already. Right now, she was sitting in a chair in Elizabeth Weir's office, trying her best to stay out of the woman's way.

Dr. Weir's lack of success in making contact with Dr. McKay or Colonel Sheppard was worrying and it was rare to see her losing her temper like this.

“Dr. Weir, I think you should take it easy,” she suggested, placing a calming hand on the other woman's shoulder. “Maybe it is only a technical problem,” she offered, thinking of the abused radio.

o0o0o

“God help us if we ever find ourselves at the mercy of your medical knowledge,” Catherine retorted. “And I’m afraid the rest of my team is no better.” Her voice sounded harsher than she intended, but his proposal was outrageous in the first place. Maybe they were running out of time, but she certainly couldn’t accept help from someone as unfamiliar with the procedures as dear Colonel Sheppard. Or place her life in his hands for anything other than a Wraith attack. What was he thinking?

“Look, I know you may not like it,” she continued, “but I'm the only one in a position to help. I am the best virologist anyway, so there's no need to fret about that. Unfortunately, it seems I’m also infected, so I need to work quickly and I need to stay focused. I might pass out and I might hallucinate. Should that happen, we are all screwed, Colonel – pardon my French – so you can just go ahead and start saying your prayers. Now, I need a blood sample from you, so be nice and roll up your sleeve. It shouldn't take long.”

She took a deep breath and steadied herself.

Silently, John did as she told and offered his arm.

“Do your worst,” he said as the needle went in, and Catherine hoped against hope he wouldn’t notice the tremor of her hands. There was no need to worry him even further, but there was just no way of fighting the chills going through her body. The only thing she could do was focus on the job at hand - the needle piercing his skin, the blood flowing into the tube. Finally, a few drops found their way onto a slide and she mixed them with a colourless reagent. She gave it time to react and placed the slide under the microscope.

“I'm sorry to say that, but you are clearly infected as well. Whatever caused the mutation, now we’re dealing with an airborne pathogen,” she informed him.

“You sure know how to keep your patients' spirits up, doc,” he said, rubbing his arm where the needle had been stuck in.

What an infuriating being he was.

“Oh, I'm _so_ sorry for taking greater interest in your health than in your feelings, Colonel. Maybe I should start by giving you a hug and saying everything is gonna be fine?”

“And what’s wrong with a hug?” he joked.

Catherine rolled her eyes. It was impossible to focus with him around.

"Damn it, is it _that_ hard to shut up for a few minutes? Just sit down and pretend you're not here!"

She took a deep breath and tried hard to ignore the sense of guilt that was brewing inside her. There really was no need to treat him like that, but he was getting on her nerves just by breathing – albeit that part would get solved in a couple of days if she didn't focus on her work. No matter how annoying he was, John Sheppard was not to blame for the current situation and in the worst case scenario, he was as dead as she was.

She could feel her temperature rising with every passing minute and her heart rate was going _haywire_. No time to waste.

o0o0o

Rodney was trying to stay calm. He wasn't very good at it. He paced around the small room, scratching the back of his head and trying to think of anything but the itch he felt down his spine, or the cramp in his left foot, or the twitch in his right eye that was getting very, very annoying, or the strange and disturbing craving he was starting to have for lemons.

He decided it was better to just sit down. So he did.

It didn't help. He could feel his back burning all the way down his spine.

Eventually, he turned his radio back on and called John.

“Sheppard, do you happen to know when the symptoms kick in?”

“They should kick in by now, but I‘m not very sure. Why?”

“Well, I've got this weird itching on my spine. Is it one of the symptoms?”

“I'll have to ask Dr. Spencer about that. Doc., is your spine itching?”

“What? No!”

“How about muscle cramps? My left foot feels like one big knot,” Rodney insisted.

He heard John paying his question forward to Catherine.

"No. There are no cramps. You're losing your immunity, Rodney. You shouldn't be able to feel it just yet." She sounded irate, but that was a tone Rodney was all too familiar with, both from others and from his own use under times of crisis.

“My eye is twitching as well,” he added.

“Rodney, calm down. You're under a lot of stress and that's why it’s twitching,” Sheppard answered.

“Can you just ask to make sure?” he insisted.

He heard a loud, exasperated sigh and John asking “What about twitching?”

There was a long pause while he could hear Catherine explain how there were no cramps or twitching involved in losing one's immunity and how she really needed to get back to analyzing samples and that, really, it was getting annoying how people were set on distracting her from saving their lives. Then, John gave him the short version “She said 'no'.”

By now, Rodney didn't dare ask about the lemons. Maybe he was just feeling suicidal.

“Anything else?” Sheppard asked.

“No, I'm fine. Stuck in a very small, very dark room, with very odd symptoms and no clue of what's going to happen to me. Not to mention there's no food here. I'm fine.” His voice held the high pitched tones of panic, but he hoped John won't notice.

o0o0o

Catherine was tired and annoyed. She needed a break and having to assure Rodney that his symptoms were imagined or unrelated didn't count as one.

Her tests continued to yield no encouraging results. The virus was there and it was eating away the immune system – that was about all she got. She had tried everything she could think of – hell, she had even tried going through the Ancient's medical database for precedents – nothing.

“I'm running out of samples. It looks like you can be of help after all,” she said, trying to put a smile on her pale lips. She definitely needed to see some results, and _fast_.

o0o0o

There was no use in thinking about the symptoms. At least, that was what everyone usually told him. He needed a distraction. A chocolate bar wouldn't have hurt right about now, but he was out. Any kind of sweet would have done at the moment.

What _else_ could he do to occupy his time?

He couldn't contact Sheppard again, he'd be tempted to ask Catherine about her research and his symptoms and he'd be back to square one.

He didn't even have his tablet with him. He hadn't brought it on his date so... Great! What a wonderful conclusion to an already awkward evening - getting stuck in the dark with an unknown disease working its way through his immune system.

Zelenka? Neah, that was his final option.

Eventually, he turned his earpiece back on and turned in to Dr. Weir's frequency.

“Dr. Weir? Are you there?”

All he could hear was a loud buzzing, but he persisted.

“Can you hear me?”

“Finally! It was about the time to contact me! Rodney, what's going on?” He could hear relief in her voice, but the static drowned out its full extent.

“Elizabeth, are you having trouble with your radio?”

He could almost imagine her applying the 'Russian method' on the uncomforting device in a fit of… what? The situation was tense enough to make Elizabeth act out on a piece of equipment – having to stand aside and let the others do the work was probably driving her crazy. He wondered if the warranty covered such risks, but didn’t dare to bring it into discussion.

“How do you know that?” Was that suspicion in her voice?

“Never mind,” he said in a hurry. “Where are you? I'm stuck in the surveillance room, it's going to take me a while to break into the mainframe and see if I can bypass the protocols.”

It was going to take him longer than that. He was, however, the best and if he couldn't get the computer to do what he wanted, chances anyone else could were slim to none.

“I’m in the control room with Teyla, but I have no idea about the others. John is not here and I haven't seen Zelenka either.” Her voice had recovered its cool and she seemed very much in control. Rodney was sure she even looked as collected as she sounded and couldn’t help but wonder how the hell she was doing that.

“Listen,” he said, absentmindedly scrolling through the files of an unusually basic computer. “Sheppard and Catherine are stuck in her lab and I've been talking to them.” He licked his lips nervously and gave her a very brief description of what he had found from the two. “The good news is that she’s working on a cure, a vaccine, whatever,” he finished, feeling oddly relieved to have voiced the whole story.

A long silence followed his presentation.

“I think Zelenka was in charge of wiring this place up, right?” he asked, referring to the symbiotic surveillance system. “It shouldn't be too hard to trick it into working around the city's inbuilt protections.”

“You're certain it's a virus?” she interrupted him. A hint of frustration leaked into her voice and the static seemed to clear long enough for a snap to be heard – probably an unlucky pen that had found its way into her nervous grasp.

“You're taking this well,” he observed, changing subjects before he started to panic again. “Look, the equipment here is pretty basic and it's really annoying not to have my tablet, but I don't think it's news that I can probably override anything Zelenka might have put in the way of a bored security agent from taking over the mainframe. I won't promise to get you out yet - it's a little harder to break the Ancients' programming and we had no luck the last time - but it will be easier for everyone else to work together on finding the cure.”

He set to work as he was still talking to Dr. Weir. Ah, the joys of multitasking. It took his mind off the life-threatening situation he was under and the knowledge that he was one-upping Zelenka was an added bonus.

o0o0o

The grimace on John's face spoke volumes. His arm stung like crazy, but that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was that this was the sixth vial of blood Catherine was collecting from him and she didn't look like she was about to stop any time soon. To top it off, her hands were shaking and she had missed his vein three times before she started the draining.

At first, he pretended not to be too worried by her fever, but it was clear even to his untrained eye that her state was getting worse. Her temper was still there, but the trembling hands and rosy skin gave her away.

She disconnected the full vial and set it aside. Her hand drew in to pull out the needle from his arm, but luckily he managed to pull it out before her shaking could cause more damage.

“I can still do my own job, thank you!” she snapped testily. “I may not be at my best, but I'm still the best qualified to...” She trailed off into what she probably thought was a patronizing, superior stare. She looked rather exhausted. “...take care of an overgrown _child_ ,” she finished, putting as much energy she could spare into the ' _child_ '.

“Sure, bullets, and broken bones, and hungry aliens, and God knows what you, Machos, are willing to take, but one little needle? How can you still be scared of needles? I don't get it!” she continued, carefully avoiding his gaze.

He set the needle aside and clasped her hands in his.

Ocean blue eyes locked with his own, wide with surprise.

“Are you sure there's nothing you need me to do? Even a five minute break would do you good,” he managed to say.

o0o0o

His touch sent shivers down her spine and she suddenly became too well-aware of his closeness.

“What are you...” she muttered.

This wasn't the way it went. This was when he brought up his authority as a shield and she argued it down. This was when she got to test her famously sharp tongue. She was supposed to pick him apart, he wasn't supposed to be kind, or considerate, or baffling. He made her feel _vulnerable_ and - oh! - how much she hated this feeling!

“Don't. Please,” she whispered, but the tone shifted inside her head. _'Because, if you continue, I'll start crying and I won't be able to stop, not before I give too much of myself away. And you want that even less than I do.'_

Slowly, she turned her head away and pulled her hands free before he could see her eyes filling with tears. “I will be fine, Colonel.” The tremor was gone from her voice, but it lacked its former harshness. “You're already giving me all the help I need by letting me use your blood.”

She picked up the test tube without glancing at him and made a few unsteady steps towards the workbench. She had almost made it before everything went dark around her and the test tube fell on the floor and shattered into pieces.

o0o0o

Before she could follow the fate of the glass tube, John caught her by the waist and helped her up. She was light as a feather.

He should let go of her now, he knew he should.

But neither of them moved. They just stood there, bodies touching, hearts racing, gazes locked. He knew what might happen next if he didn't move, but he couldn't look away.

“I'm... fine now,” she whispered. “Thank you, Colonel.”

Still, she didn't push him away.

For the merest whisper of a second, his gaze dropped from her eyes to her lips and he swallowed. _He could almost feel the taste of those_ lips against his. He closed his eyes and leaned in close enough to feel her breath, hot and shallow against his face.

A sudden movement from her made him jump back.

“You should... sit down,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. What the hell had just happened? Was he really going to kiss her? It was the virus to blame, no doubt about it! How else would he have even considered the possibility of kissing a woman who so obviously despised him? And that was only the tip of the iceberg. He refused to think of her as Rodney’s girlfriend.

Taking a deep breath, he helped her into a chair and sat down next to her, close enough to watch her work. Her physical weakness was now fully evident – she looked like she needed all her strength to push through with the research.

It didn’t take long before she was out of samples again.

“Colonel...” There was hesitation in her voice. “ _John_. I need more blood – my blood.”

Maybe it was just his imagination, but his name rolled off her lips with such an intimate tone that he almost went weak at the knees. It reminded him of their almost-kiss. He cleared his throat and tried to focus.

“Blood. Right. What should I do?” he managed to say.

“Not much. You just have to stick a needle into my vein and fill three vials with blood.” She smiled at him and pointed to a little box placed the other side of the table. “You should find the rest of the vials in there.”

“OK, I got it.” He hurried to gather the vials and the needle and waited for her to roll up her sleeve before tying the tourniquet around her arm. “Is it too tight?” he wanted to know.

“Hey, relax.” A faint smile was playing on her lips. “You're not holding some sort of Asgard weapon. Just… just breathe in and… Ouch.”

The sight of blood flowing into the small glass containers mildly disturbed him. Somehow, it was less comfortable to watch the process on somebody else than on your own person.

Once the first vial was full, he hesitantly attached a new one.

“I hope two are enough.”

The vial was full now and, before she could reply, he pulled out the needle and took off the tourniquet - she was already too weak to stand on her own, let alone work on a cure. He wasn't about to bleed her dry for the sake of argument.

“Three would have been better,” she whispered, carefully avoiding his gaze.

Then, she pulled back her sleeve and went back to work.

o0o0o

Three more hours have passed and still no results.

“I give up,” she sighed. “I can't take this anymore. I just need to lie down and get some rest and doom us all in the process. 'cause if I do, you couldn't wake me without a sarcophagus,” she muttered and leaned back on her chair. “Look, I'm sorry.”

She turned away from him, looking intently at the display in front of her. He didn't even need to look at her face to read the disappointment; it was flowing through the air in thick waves. John wondered if that wasn't just the hallucinations kicking in, but he was almost certain the waves he was seeing were more than just a metaphor.

“If Carson was here, maybe... maybe he could find a solution,” she muttered.

“Will you stop bringing Carson into this?” he finally snapped. He hadn't meant to, but they were both tense and her attempt to hide behind her predecessor's shadow was getting on his nerves. It almost looked like she lost all nerve and personality once she dug up Carson's ghost and held it up as a shield against the world and her own lack of success.

“Carson was a brilliant medic and a great friend. Fortunately, the two aren't interconnected, so you can skip on the second and focus on the first. Carson vouched for you on that one; you don't want to call him a liar now, do you?”

He turned his back to her. They were standing back to back, both looking at the various array of samples and utensils. He didn't even know what he was looking _at_ , but _someone_ had to look at it with fresh eyes.

“Try something else. _Anything_. You've been working for ten hours straight, a ten minute's rest will harm no one and you might come up with a new idea.”

He wondered if the equipment was supposed to dance around like that and tried to blink it away.

“I tried everything. I've tried every bloody thing I could think of! Maybe this is it! The most brilliant minds have been trying for decades to find a cure for AIDS, who am I to pretend I can come up with a solution for this one in under 24 hours? I can't even sit up, let alone walk, and I have to sit here and work on a cure for a virus that's slowly killing me and everyone else! I don't know, all right? I don't know what else to try. God, I don't even know what's _left_ to try!”

Suddenly, her expression changed. It was not exactly enthusiasm, but rather the first sign of hope since the city had initiated the lock down.

“There might be something...” she mumbled and her fingers started running over the keys of her small laptop. “Here!”

She stopped and turned the laptop so he could see it. As far as he could tell, various dots and shapes were dancing together on the screen in a very funny way. He blinked in confusion and looked at her.

“What if it's not a virus at all?” she insisted impatiently, like he was missing something obvious. “We're not on Earth, the same rules don't apply here! It could very well be some sort of bacteria. And even if it isn't, it might respond to the treatment all the same.”

Her eyes were glowing with fever and her face was burning red, but her entire attitude was different.

o0o0o

It felt like he had just started working moments ago, excitement and fear having dealt away with actual time and adrenaline once more replacing sugar. His fingers were aching and there was a new throbbing in his forehead - he ruled them as things-he-needed-to-ask-Catherine-about and kept working.

He was done overriding the basic security codes and had most of the peripheral surveillance systems under control. It was time to ask for help and make a little Czech happy (or possibly annoy him beyond belief, but that was a scene he'd pay to see anyway).

“Zelenka, I need you to-”

“I was beginning to think your radio was down,” Zelenka cut him off before he could ask for anything. “Dr. Weir briefed me. I've been working on a viable way to bypass the quarantine and I think we can-”

“Lovely. Now, I was looking for something a little less long-term, but more realistic. I've rewired the security system, so it would give them the chance to work out a cure via video conference. Once they're in the clear and the city acknowledges them as such, it will allow them to override the quarantine restrictions and distribute the cure to the rest of us. Now, are you gonna help me override your safety precautions or not?”

“It never occurred to you to ask for my help from the beginning, has it? We'd have been done with the quarantine by now,” Zelenka said disapprovingly.

“Is that a 'yes'?” Rodney insisted.

o0o0o

“What do you mean it's not a virus? Virus, bacteria, same difference!”

Fortunately for John's continued existence, he stopped before saying anything else to aggravate her even further.

“OK, alien biology. I can't even get my head around Earth biology,” he admitted. “Still... You pumped me full of antibiotics! Why didn't they have any effect on the bacteria?”

She let out a long, exasperated sigh. “What are you talking about?! I _never_ gave you antibiotics; they have zero effect on viruses. On the other hand, on bacteria... they might have. Of course, there are a few bacteria completely immune to antibiotics, but let’s just hope our little bastard is not one of them.” She hoped the explanation was good enough for him, though her efforts weren't going to be as random as her speech might have made them out to be.

“Can you bring me a vial from the little drawer over there? The one marked _Vancomycin_. As far as I know, it has never been tested on weird alien pathogens, but it is the strongest antibiotic I have, so I’ll give it a try.”

Another hour passed slowly while she mixed the remaining blood with different quantities of Vancomycin and various other substances. It was a slow process and it required most of her remaining energy, but this time she seemed to be on the right track.

It took her another three hours to synthesize a stable compound that took her work to the next level.

“John, look here.”

Holding her breath, she offered him the microscope.

“Can you see that? The little orange spots – they’re definitely decreasing,” she pointed out before checking again. Indeed, the sample was almost clear.

Without thinking, she threw herself into his arms, giddy like a schoolgirl after her first kiss.

“Oh my God, it actually works! This is it! All I have to do now is prepare the serum.”

o0o0o

Surprised, John accepted the embrace and held her with care and caution, least she remembered whom it was she was hugging. She was burning up and looked barely able to stand.

Without hesitation, he picked her up and walked her over to the small couch in the lab.

“Before that, I think you should really take a break,” he said, setting her down. “Just ten minutes. I promise I'll wake you up in time; I don't want to die either. Just... rest.”

“You... don't understand,” she protested. “I can't rest. I don't have the time and if I fall asleep you _won't_ be able to wake me up. I will die and probably everybody else, including you, will follow.”

She seemed even frailer as she looked at him with her arms still encircling his neck. Despite her words, she didn't try to stand up, probably too exhausted to get up from the bed. A sudden movement of her hand made him too well-aware of their position. Apparently, it had the same effect on her, because she untangled her hands from around his neck, looking rather embarrassed.

“I'm sorry. I don't know what's got into me,” she muttered. “Please, help me get up, I'm not dying just yet.”

Reluctantly, John took her hand and he was helping her up when Rodney's voice boomed in his ear.

“Sheppard, we have visual!”

“What?” He had aimed for 'authoritative', but his question sounded more bewildered than anything.

“I've rerouted the surveillance and communication lines so that the rest of the medical staff - at least those with access to a video line - can aid in the research. Well, Zelenka helped a little, too.”

“What?” Again, he was a few shades away from 'authoritative', but the slight confusion and annoyance were still better than bewilderment.

“I'm saying the rest of the medical staff and whoever else thinks they can help, can see and hear you and now--” Rodney’s voice drifted off for a few moments as a monitor turned on behind John “-you can see them as well. OK, you'll have to flip channels to see everyone, but it's all we could do.”

“What?!” This time it was 20% authority and 80% annoyance. Considering the situation, it was probably the closest he had gotten to an appropriate response since Rodney first cut in.

“By the way, it's nice to see that, even when we're all about to die a horrible, mysterious death, you still get the girl.”

Rodney was equally annoyed, it seemed. Well, he did have a reason to be. Maybe that 'reason' had something to do with the girl he had dated a few hours ago.

John steadied Catherine. She was barely conscious.

“Look, we're almost done with the cure. You'd better start working on a way of getting us out of here so we can fix you as well!” he hissed, catching Catherine before she fell back again.

“Apparently, that's what Zelenka's been up to all night. Maybe he can finally work it out now that I'm able to help.”

“Now, this is helpful!” she mumbled, suddenly back among the living. “How could I ever have imagined I was in mortal danger with the greatest minds in Atlantis only a phone call away?”

Catherine tried to stand, but her knees caved in. Cursing, she caught his arm and leaned on him.

“I have to sit. Now,” she mumbled.

John eased his burden onto a stool, trying discreetly to support her. She was putting on a brave show of strength and determination, but it made him feel none the better knowing she was a hair's breadth away from collapse.

“Believe me, Rodney, this is one girl I'd rather let go than get,” he joked half-heartedly, refusing to think about earlier. “Can we get on with this?”

“You'll have to do it without me, as I can hear Zelenka's cries for help,” Rodney said a bit too cheerily.

John wrapped his arm around Catherine's shoulders - it was as much for her comfort as it was for his, as he attempted to make the world a bit steadier.

“Whatever. Just get us out of here as soon as we come up with a solution. We've both had our share of each other's charming personalities to hold us for a while.”

Still looking through the lens of the microscope, Catherine gave a little snort of disagreement, but she didn’t dignify him with a proper comeback.

If it were to be asked afterward, none of them would have had any idea of how she managed to explain her discovery to the other doctors. No memory of the moments before her collapse remained. After a few weeks, John remembered she told him to “do what it has to be done”, but he had no idea what that meant. No idea of how she asked him to kill her before turning into a living corpse, no idea of how her explanations helped the other doctors give him the proper instructions to synthesize the serum that saved them all.

She managed to finish her explanation and she put her life in his hands.

Then... nothing but void remained.

o0o0o

Apologizing to the watching scientists, John caught the now clearly unconscious Catherine before she could fall face first into her work. He somehow scooped her in his arms and carried her over to the bed.

He would let her rest; she was tired after such a long night's work. He kept telling himself that as he paced the lab, running his hands through his hair and refusing to think of the highly unstable state she was in. A tactful cough brought him back to the present.

“It would be so much better for everyone if you could pull yourself together long enough to follow her instructions,” said the owner of the cough, a grey-haired man that showed up on screen after a few doubtful clicks of a button. “Allow me to explain what you have to do. I believe Dr Spencer's instructions were clear enough and you can still hold on long enough to finish her work.” His voice held a forced calmness possibly meant to encourage John into action, but which gave it an irate quality that further grated on his nerves.

“I’ll try my best,” he said, determined not to let anyone's temper get the better of him.

The elderly doctor was followed on screen by a middle-aged female doctor and then by various other figures, all visibly missing their lab coats and each giving him another set of instructions as to what to do to further Catherine's work. He spent most of the morning on autopilot, almost clueless as to what exactly he was doing, only marginally aware that he was really treating samples and running tests whose results he could no better interpret.

He was nearing the point of collapse himself when another voice, disembodied from its image on a monitor, congratulated him on a job finally done. He flipped through the screens until he finally matched the voice to the speaker - it was the same middle-aged woman from near the beginning.

“Great! Now what do I do?”

A short silence, punctuated by a few coughs, followed.

“Normally, you'd run more tests. As there’s no time for that, you'll have to give it to her and see if it works,” she replied.

With a syringe of the new serum in hand, John walked by Catherine's side. With his free hand he brushed her hair away from her forehead. Her skin was beaded with sweat and cold to the touch. That wasn't a good sign – didn't that happen to the villagers before they died? He couldn't stay around, watching her wither way. There was no going back to the drawing board if this didn't work, not for her. He hoped he'd got things right in one.

Taking in a deep breath, he stabbed the needle into her flesh, forcing himself not to look away.

“And now, we wait,” said the woman from the screen.

Minutes crawled by without any remarkable change in Catherine's condition. Her skin was still cold and she kept babbling, slipping in and out of consciousness as her body took in the serum and fought the bacteria. Every now and then, she'd look at him without focus or recognition. Once, she even called him Daniel.

Another half hour passed before she stopped stirring and calling out. Slowly, Catherine's breath fell into a normal rhythm and she fell into a shallow sleep. She wasn't out of the woods yet, but there was hope.

They were still under the patient supervision of the entire medical staff of the base, which served to make the wait for an improvement in her state all the more awkward. To make things worse, John was starting to lose his grip on reality as well.

When Catherine stirred again, he could barely hold back the relief in his voice. “Do you think you can stand?” he managed to say just before falling unconscious next to her.

o0o0o

The pain was blinding her, concentrating in the eyes and in the back of her head, just above the neck, but at least she could hear him. For a brief moment, Catherine tried to open her eyes, but the light was too much for her and she closed them right away.

“Water, please. Can you bring me a glass of water?” she mumbled, reaching out to him.

“There is no justice in the world,” she mumbled, forcing a smile on her burned lips. They were just as painful as everything else. “There's a bunch of dwarfs playing baseball in my head and the God of Sore Throats has cursed me onto the fifth generation. If that weren't enough, I have needles in my eyes and my knees are made of gelatine. To answer your question, no, I don't think I can stand.”

But she was alive and so was him, as far as she could ascertain. Sure, there was also the possibility that she had died and ended up in hell, but not even Lucifer himself could have been as devious and cynical as to lock them together for eternity.

“Who would have thought you could actually synthesize the vaccine? And with such _great_ help as you could get through a video conference. Maybe you are not so...”

The word was “stupid”, but she managed to refrain herself before saying it. Annoying as he might be, she still owed him her life.

“...blunt as you wanted to...”

The lack of answers made her open her eyes. The stab of pain was even stronger now; she feared she might faint again. When it became bearable once more, she saw him slumped on the bed beside her.

“Damn... Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you take the vaccine yourself?”

Hesitating, she placed a small hand on his shoulder, in an almost comforting way.

A small cough reminded her they were not alone and she quickly withdrew her hand.

“Dr. Spencer, it's good to have you back,” she heard a voice coming from the screen on the wall. She could say it was Dr. Meyer, the veteran of the medical personnel.

“Good to be back, actually, but you can skip the applause,” she answered dryly. “Why didn't you tell him to take the vaccine himself? Oh, let me guess. You thought it was a brilliant idea to test it on me first. Of course, I was dying. Why not test the vaccine on a person who is half past dead anyway?”

Cursing, she made an unsuccessful attempt to stand, but she was still too spent.

“You know what? Maybe I should let you come over so you can handle this? I'm due a nice, long nap.” Catherine's voice was dripping sarcasm.

“With pleasure, Dr. Spencer,” came the infuriating answer. “Just bypass the quarantine and we'll be there in a second.”

“Now, I think you would be of more help by keeping quiet. As it is, you're only making my headache worse. Thank you,” she retorted.

After another useless effort, she finally managed to stand and made a few unsure steps toward the table.

It took her a little over ten minutes and more than a few instructions from Dr. Meyer to find the little vial containing the serum. She found it very difficult to focus and even harder to move when she needed to lie in bed and sleep for one or two eternities, but in the end she managed to fill a syringe and return to the colonel. His condition was rapidly deteriorating, but at least he seemed conscious.

“Colonel,” she called softly. “John. Can you hear me? Can you still understand what I'm saying?”

Feeling drunk, Catherine took his arm and folded the sleeve, but instead of continuing the procedure, she found herself looking at his face as if she was seeing him for the first time. Lying in bed, feverish and almost unconscious, he didn't have that annoying boyish air of his and that very detail almost made her let her guard down.

“I will inject you with the vaccine... I wouldn't be surprised if you'd recover faster than I and, if that's the case, I need you to help me. I cannot vaccinate everyone in Atlantis when I’m half past dead myself.”

The needle pierced his flesh and she pushed the serum slowly into his vein.

“This should be enough for now.”

Her voice was hoarse, but a lot warmer than her usual distant and indifferent tone. Taking a deep breath, she dipped a piece of gauze in the water remaining in the glass and placed it on his forehead.

o0o0o

John couldn't remember anything from after the injection. He must have blacked out.

As he awoke, he couldn't help the feeling of light-headedness that gripped him and wonder if he was truly awake or just under the effect of the fever. He saw Catherine by his bedside and concluded he couldn't be having nightmares of _such_ proportions already and Hell wouldn't be so cruel.

“Did it work?” he asked feebly and gave her a half-smile. If it did, he owed her his life and he had no clue how he'd live that down afterwards.

“We’re still alive, aren't we?” came the answer.

o0o0o

The relief she felt at the thought that she was no longer alone was overwhelming, but her pale face showed nothing of it. During the last two hours, he had spent unconscious; she had finished the synthesis of a larger quantity of vaccine, hopefully enough for everybody else in Atlantis.

In the end, she had tried to talk to Dr. Meyer only to find that no one was answering. Not even Rodney, with his endless whining, or Dr. Johansen - no one. The silence became unbearable - and so did her need to get rest. Even worse, when she tried to get out, the doors refused to open, although she was probably cured, and this scared her.

“Look... I think we might have a problem,” she said, avoiding his gaze. “The stupid door won't open! I tried it earlier, and nothing. I did everything. I even ran other tests on my blood and I'm clear. And Dr. Meyer didn't answer. Neither did Rodney or the others. All I could think about was that they were dying and so were you and I was… I'm… I'm tired, I can't take it anymore!”

Once she started, Catherine found it difficult to stop and the whole terror of the last hours started to flow in the words that came one after another, in quick succession. She didn't even realize she was crying and continued to talk nonsense between the sobs until the exhaustion forced her to put an end to it.

“I think... we must hurry,” she mumbled, wiping her eyes with the sleeve.

“Rodney and Zelenka were working on overriding the quarantine lockdown,” he managed to say. His voice sounded hoarse and tired, but at least he was alive.

“Unless they screwed up and managed to send the city into permanent lockdown, we should be able to leave here if we're wearing protective gear.” He stopped for breath. “Go on, then. Get dressed. We need to take care of the others now.”

She reacted almost instantly, grateful to have someone along to spur her on.

“ _Permanent_ lockdown? You'd better be joking, Sheppard.”

Under normal circumstances, Catherine wouldn't have let him out of bed in his condition, but then again, she wouldn't have let herself out of bed if she could help it – luckily, the current situation was anything but normal. And there was also the threat of being stuck with him for good. She stood up, her face twisted into a preoccupied scowl and mumbling something incomprehensible, and walked to the lockers in the back of the Infirmary.

“Protective gear. Right. I should have known we will need those. I think I have three or four around... here. Bingo.”

She pulled out two hazmat suits and dropped them at his feet. They were roughly the same size and it was obvious they were made for taller persons. She offered him one of them and started a battle with the zipper on her own

“I... you were joking, right?” she asked him, while trying to put on the damned costume. “We're not - we can't be - stuck here forever. Well, forever won't take long since there's no food and--” she left the thought hang between them.

“Let's keep our minds on getting out of here and saving the city. We can discuss the undesirability of having to spend what's left of the predictable future in each other's company for a different occasion, shall we?”

The system must have recognized them as healthy for once they suited up, the doors to the infirmary slid open. Rodney and Zelenka must have passed out before they did any serious damage - they needed to get to them before it was too late.

“Yeah, sure. Thanks for reminding me. I was only saying I'd hate starving to death in this lab, but hey, now that _you_ mentioned it, starvation seems a better option than your company.”

Catherine had no idea what had gotten into her, but she was boiling with anger. Of course, she had been concerned with the same thing, but to think of it and to hear him saying it so bluntly were two very different things.

“What did I say this time?” he asked, looking genuinely confused. “After you.”

“Oh, nothing. Really, nothing,” she mumbled as she got out of the room. She stopped after a few steps and leaned against the wall for a couple of seconds. She could swear the small boxes in her hands were weighting at least a tone. Each.

“We just have to put an end to this situation and I don't know about you, but I need to sleep. My head hurts like hell, I can hardly hear you. Thank God for this part though!”

The shadow of a pale smile curved her lips, but it passed so quickly that it could have been just an impression.

“I have no idea what you're doing, but somehow you manage to annoy me more than anyone alive. This way,” she indicated and he followed her with the rest of the vaccines.

 


	4. Episode 4: On the Edge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: CRACK!!!! Also, the characters are acting under the influence of alien tea and aren't in full control of their actions. Also, fangirls revealed :D

**Episode 4: On the Edge**

 

It was late and the SGC was expecting a transmission from Atlantis with news of the expedition they'd sent a month ago, with no concrete results yet. Why Vala was part of that expedition was beyond Daniel's understanding. It was becoming a habit of hers to come between him and Atlantis. The first time, he had missed the Prometheus thanks to her trick with the bracelets, now this. Admittedly, it wasn't exactly her fault this time, but events kept running in that direction.

She had left with Teal'c and Sam and a small group to investigate the ruins of an Ancient outpost that might contain the one weapon that could help them against the Ori. He himself had been stuck off world at the time, accompanying SG-3 on a diplomatic expedition and had found out Vala had tagged along with Sam and Teal'c to Pegasus only after his return to Earth. Not that it affected him much - he was rather relieved to be rid of the nuisance - but he'd hoped he could see the site at least once. Even if the pendant wasn't there, maybe he could still find some clues as to its whereabouts.

A few days after the expedition's departure, they had received a message for the Atlantis base that they had experienced complete lockdown when the city was thrown into quarantine after being infected with modified alien bacteria. Luckily, they had the situation under control by the time they got in touch with Earth, but he was still a bit worried about the fate of the expedition.

o0o0o

“We should have waited for him! I knew we were making a mistake!”

Teal'c remained silent, looking at Vala as she continued to walk back and forth between Chuck's desk and the Stargate, repeating the same thing for the thousandth time. Of course, he wasn't content either with their current status, but the reasons were completely different – mostly having to do with their inability to find what they were looking for. In short, Daniel's absence from Atlantis was low on his list of concerns. Vala, on the other hand, seemed to make it her first concern.

It was almost time to send the monthly report back to the SGC when Elizabeth Weir entered the control room and made a quick assessment of the situation. A smile flickered in the corner of her mouth as she crossed the room and caught the eye of a very annoyed Chuck.

“Good morning, everyone!” Elizabeth greeted them while taking her place behind the DHD. She sounded a bit hoarse and tired, but with the flu that was going around the city it was hardly a surprise. A loud sneeze broke the silence and Chuck took a handkerchief from his pocket.

“I'm sorry ma'am!” he said, looking at Elizabeth who nodded in return.

Vala seemed to finally notice Elizabeth and turned to look at her with a pleading expression on her face. There was no need for words, the other woman was well aware of what she wanted. She also knew there was little chance she would approve her request.

“Elizabeth! So good to see you're feeling better already!” Vala said cheerfully, climbing the stairs. “This flu doesn't look all that serious, now does it?”

She was cut short by a loud sneeze, coming from the technician that had just entered the room. The man looked like a wreck, barely able to walk, but he somehow made it to his desk where he fell heavy in his chair with a sigh of relief.

“You were saying?”

Vala's smile was as wide as could get.

“You see, Muscles and I are in perfect health and we were wondering if-”

Teal'c's raised eyebrow and arms crossed over his muscular chest clearly suggested otherwise. Of course, he wanted to leave Atlantis just as badly, but, after so many years in the SGC, he knew the procedures too well to ask for that in the middle of an alien flu epidemic.

“I'm sorry Vala, I wish I could say ‘yes’, but you know I can't do that,” Elizabeth answered as expected.

“Please! Look at me! Do I not look healthy to you?” she insisted, but her hope of convincing Elizabeth fade away quickly.

“Vala, I understand you, I really do. But there's nothing I can do right now. “

This being said, Elizabeth turned around, letting her know that, from her point of view, the discussion was over.

“Where's Rodney?” she asked, quite surprised by his absence. Were he there, he would have made his presence loudly announced by then. Not that the scientist was the only one missing, but unlike the others, he hadn't yet shown any symptoms. On the other hand, knowing Rodney, this was probably another reason of alarm for him.

“He radioed me in the morning from the infirmary,” Chuck said. “He told me where to find the report and gave me more than detailed instructions of how to send it.”

“Of course he did.”

It was hard to say whether Elizabeth was really concerned or slightly amused. Rodney's hypochondria was common knowledge among the other members of the Atlantis expedition and, more or less secretly, everyone made fun of it.

“In this case I guess it can't be helped. Chuck, dial the gate and-”

“Excuse me...”

Elizabeth turned left to meet Vala's wide smile. The genuine look of innocence in her eyes was just another sign of disaster. In the last month Elizabeth had more than enough time to learn that much about Vala. If she was smiling, she had a plan and looking innocent was just the first part of it. And if she had a plan, no matter how bad, she intended to put it in action. Elizabeth sighed.

“What?”

“If we can't leave Atlantis yet, I was wondering... Could we at least have a word with the members of our team? A chat, I mean, beside the... formal report.”

Of course, by that she meant Daniel Jackson, but no one felt the need to bring it up. However, after a short pause, Elizabeth found her request surprisingly reasonable and nodded.

“Yes, you can.”

“Thank you!” Vala said a bit overenthusiastically and literally embraced her. She could be very childish sometimes for a woman her age – Elizabeth thought – but in her case, these reactions were so natural that it was hard to reject her. The woman was a walking contradiction and her childish personality made her grow on Elizabeth for reasons that completely defied the woman's logic.

“You can dial the gate now,” she said to Chuck and watched Teal'c as he slowly climbed the stairs to join them.

The symbols around the gate began to activate and soon the event horizon formed in front of them, looking like a bright, iridescent pool of water. Although she had seen this image in so many occasions, Elizabeth still couldn't have enough of it.

“Stargate Command, can you hear us? This is Elizabeth Weir speaking,” she said, taking a step forward.

“Dr. Weir. We... connection... not good,” answered General Landry, with interruptions. Elizabeth frowned and gave Chuck a questioning look.

“Everything works fine,” he assured her, his fingers moving rapidly on the keys of the small tablet in front of him. “The malfunction seems to be on their side.”

“General Landry, we're going to send our report, please confirm its arrival.” Elizabeth continued, hoping the general will understand as much. And apparently he did, because the answer came rather quickly.

“... received... Thank... Dr. Weir.”

Next to her, Vala was staring at the Gate with a blank expression on her face.

“Do you still want to--” Elizabeth asked her and she nodded in return.

“Yes, I'll give it a try,” she agreed and moved forward. When she started talking, she was almost shouting, hoping this way her message will be received.

“Daniel, are you there? If you can hear me, you should know we cannot come back yet. There is a flu epidemic in the city and, until the doctors will come up with a cure, no one can leave Atlantis. I am fine, but one of the members of the team, who was pregnant, had serious problems. She almost lost the baby the other day.”

Elizabeth had no idea why would Daniel Jackson be interested in such a thing and she made a sign to Vala to stick to the essential information. She understood and continued.

“Regarding the site, it was just another dead end. You...” she hesitated and looked at Teal'c, who didn't even blink. “...don't have to come here for that.” At this point, regret was welling up in her voice. “How are you? Admit it. You miss me, don't you?”

“All right, that's enough,” Elizabeth cut her words short. “We don't have enough power for that. Teal'c?”

The Jaffa bowed his head in her direction before speaking. “Daniel Jackson, the weapon was not on P34 5RD and the outpost had already been scavenged by the Wraith. We will return home as soon as we can.”

He had been as succinct as expected and Elizabeth found herself admiring the man.

“Any news from the IOA regarding Catherine Spencer?” she asked.

“...yet... expecting...”

Right. No surprise so far.

“This would be all for today. Thank you, SGC. Elizabeth Weir out.”

One press of the button and the illusion of water given by the event horizon was gone. It was the beginning of another day in Atlantis.

o0o0o

Vala had obviously taken the opportunity to add her own comments to the report. Unfortunately, they seemed to be plagued with technical difficulties that day and the transmission was a mess to figure out.

“Daniel,” she said and was interrupted by static. “... cannot come back yet. ... epidemic ... until the doctors ... a cure no one ... leave Atlantis. I am fine, but ... pregnant, ... problems. ...almost lost the baby ...” was all they could make out, but they listened as she continued, clearly prompted to return to the point.

“Regarding the site ... come here ...”

He thought, for a moment, that her voice softened, but it was hard to tell.

“...you miss me,” she finished.

While the others continued the briefing despite the faulty connection, Daniel remained silent, stunned by the news. For a brief moment, General Landry spared him a curious look, probably deciding to leave the comments for later, before returning his attention to Elizabeth's more objective report. At least Cameron wasn't around to pry into it.

Something wasn't quite right. What baby was she talking about? _Her_ baby? But when did she have time to get- Did she find someone in Atlantis already? Unless...

He didn't really dare think about it. It took weeks to convince himself that the _incident_ had been just one of her games. But it was recent enough - could it have really happened? Well, the morning he woke up buck naked and tied to her bed, he was pretty certain it had. She never actually confirmed that they had slept together, but it would have been so much like her to take advantage of a drunken man - especially if that man happened to be him.

“We should send some help over,” he suggested, not really caring if the others were paying attention. “They can probably use some assistance and there's still the question of that weapon...”

Teal'c's report had been just as vague and hard to make out as Vala's, so no one could really object to the suggestion.

All the while, Daniel couldn't stop wondering if they really did... well... make a baby that night.

o0o0o

“Now, who's heard this before? After alien AIDS, alien flu! What's next? Actually, better not go there – we've already made a habit of tempting fate, it seems.” Catherine sighed, looking for a handkerchief to wipe her nose, now very red and shiny. “Atlantis has fallen under a wicked curse, I can tell,” she continued, looking at Rodney, who was lying in a bed next to hers.

He nearly winced. “Would you please stop calling it that? It gives me the creeps.”

Thankfully, it had worked out alright and no one suffered any long term damage - nothing serious, at least. There had been an increased amount of headaches, 24 hour colds and the dentists had had their hands fuller than the months before, but it was generally a question of taking lots of vitamins and the occasional pain killers.

Rodney being Rodney had found a few more reasons of complaint, but none of the tests confirmed his suspicions and he had stopped expressing his theories all together rather than hear Catherine compare the recent outbreak to AIDS once too many times.

“A curse indeed,” he muttered.

They were still recovering from the last epidemic when another one hit the city. Of course, the flue was not as serious or life threatening as the previous one, but... they should really be more careful in the future.

This time, everything started with the return of Major Lorne and his team from P3X - 7G9, where they had encountered a small community of farmers and villagers who had accepted to trade with them for food. The mission was a success and they all seemed to be in perfect condition of health, fact confirmed through analysis and blood samples. However, a few days later, they returned to the infirmary accusing strong headaches and muscle soreness and it didn't take long to put a name to their condition – flu; _Alien_ flu.

Two more days and almost every single person in Atlantis had passed through the infirmary with the same problem. Catherine tried to help everyone while working on a cure and ended up in a bed soon after, too sick to move and too bitchy to remain silent.

The flue that had seized the base was exactly what they needed - except the few rather serious cases, nothing could compare to the sniffling and sneezing that reverberated all throughout the base.

To top it off, Rodney and Catherine were now stuck together as companions in suffering, after not-quite-avoiding one of each other for weeks. After the thing with the quarantine, he'd spent almost a week in the infirmary – Dr. Meyer would have discharged him after a few days, but he'd managed to convince him that he was still a high-risk patient. Meanwhile, Catherine had been bedridden in her own chamber, exhausted after the marathon to find the cure and just as worn out by the darn bug as the rest of them. Afterwards, they'd been so caught up with putting everything back in order that they'd barely had time to say 'hi' to one another.

And there was also Sam. The moment she walked out of the event horizon, Rodney thought he was dreaming. She was just as beautiful and brilliant as he remembered her in his hallucinations - he still couldn't decide if it was her body of her mind he was longing for, but he would probably never get the chance to find out. His daydreaming must have been rather obvious, since John poked him between the ribs to get him back on track.

OK, it wasn't just Sam that occupied his time for the past few weeks (though he'd wish she had been). Part of SG-1 - Sam, Teal'c and Vala, to be more precise - had been sent over on a mission of archaeological/military research. They hoped to find a weapon among the ruins of an Ancient outpost they had encountered on one of the more desolated planets. John and the others had occasionally tagged along due to an increase in Wraith activity - the ruins had already been scavenged. Meanwhile, Catherine had refused to join them on off-world missions and her animosity towards Vala had kept her confined to the infirmary and the lab as much as possible.

And here they were now. Catherine insisted it wasn't serious and kept trying to convince her colleagues to let her resume her work, while Rodney kept insisting they do more tests to make sure it wasn't a delayed effect of the previous outbreak.

On the other hand, he had felt quite lonely until Catherine joined him, so he was almost grateful for her presence, regardless the undeniable tension between them. Since all the recent events had prevented them from having a serious talk, the shadow of that interrupted kiss was still hunting him. Judging by her behavior, she didn't forget about it either.

“What do you know about Sheppard? God knows he deserves this more than we do,” she asked, as if reading his thoughts. It had been a while since he had last seen Sheppard and he was beginning to think he was avoiding him.

“I heard he had the sniffles,” Rodney said, breaking his own chain of thought. It wasn't the most technical term to describe it, but everyone who wasn't in the infirmary was walking around with what could be described as the sniffles. “He insists he's going to pull through it with lots and lots of chicken soup.”

There was no doubt in Rodney's mind that John would soon join them, though he secretly hoped he would be assigned a bed next to Zelenka. Radek had been part of the expedition that had returned with the new treaty _and_ the flue, so he had been among the first to catch it. He had also insisted on working on despite the first signs of cold - worse yet, he was working alongside Rodney, so there was no mystery as to how he'd caught his own flue.

The good part was that he enjoyed the food and the company (at least when he wasn't worrying about what to say - to the company, of course, not the food).

o0o0o

Catherine gave him a quick look. _Sniffles!_ What a quaint little word – it reminded her of the times before she started studying for her medical degree and she thought large amounts of chicken soup were the perfect cure for 'the sniffles'. That, and a large supply of paper tissues. It was amazing how amusing some of the members of the team found the situation – they had barely survived a serious outburst of a highly dangerous alien bacteria and they were now restricted from off-world missions by a (not quite) common flue. On her side, Catherine refused to refer to it as such, mostly because she felt it would sound blasphemous coming from a trained medical practitioner. That didn't stop her colleagues, however.

“Can you believe I've heard one of my nurses say she wouldn't mind catching the flu from him? And she was actually saying it like it was something very romantic!” Catherine sighed, turning to look at him. “I don't understand. You are smart, handsome and, compared to him, also modest. How can he drive them crazy like that?”

_'Of course they'd think that'_ Rodney thought to himself, the nurse's attitude being too familiar to him by now.

With a smile on her lips, she reached out to touch his fingers and continued. “I really like you, Rodney, never doubt that. Besides, you are the only one here as smart as I am, and that says it all.”

“Does that mean you wouldn't mind catching the flue from me?” he joked. After a moment's thought, he added mortified “Or that there's something... romantic between me and Radek?”

“Too late for that, Rodney!” she laughed, her fingers still touching his. Besides, she wasn't the romantic type. Not when ‘romantic’ was so close to ‘idiotic’, at least.

The mere thought of Rodney being romantically involved with the Czech made her smile. Still, she didn't feel the need to stress the fact that they bickered like an old couple sometimes, especially when they were arguing for some scientific nonsense. In fact, on second thought, they were almost cute to watch.

“Oh, I certainly hope not,” she couldn't help saying. “I'd feel rather weird having Radek as a rival,” she added with a wink. “Don't get me wrong, I _do_ prefer Radek over an entire fan club, but...”

Thank God, Radek's bed was on the other side of the room. Catherine herself felt she was taking the joke a bit too far and she wasn't sure he would like this particular turn it seemed to be taking.

He noticed him looking at her and gave him a smile.

“Look, maybe, when this whole mess with the flue is over, we can give the date another try?” he finally asked.

“No hidden cameras or backup plans, this time,” he promised.

“So it _was_ a backup plan!” she hissed, trying unsuccessfully to look offended. Were they in some other place, she might have thrown a pillow at him. She wondered if the flue wasn't causing them to hallucinate or if it might have been a side effect of the drugs. Truthfully, his proposition made her happy and she just couldn't hide it. She didn't even try.

“I thought you'll never ask,” she eventually answered with a smile, only to be cut short by a loud sneeze.

“As long as you don't get it into your head that I'd make a good couple with another guy...” His face creased into a horrified expression. “Second thought, better not give you any ideas,” he said.

Contrary to popular belief, some of the male members of the expedition at least suspected – if they weren't perfectly aware of – the existence of certain fan clubs or trends among their female coworkers. Let's not pretend that they were completely blameless. No chance of that - quite a few of them in fact joined in the fun (albeit without the girls' knowledge) and there was a reasonable amount of fan fiction circulating the networks around Atlantis.

Catherine, however, had no clue about that and she turned to ask him what was that comment about when she heard a loud sneeze nearby, followed by another one from across the room.

“I am not deaf, Rodney!” cried Zelenka from his bed at the other end of the infirmary. “Never underestimate the lengths some of our female colleagues would go to--”

“To liven up the dreary experience of an internet-less existence,” finished Colonel Sheppard before sneezing again.

Just when she thought her day was getting better! When did he get to the infirmary?

Rolling her eyes, she refused to acknowledge his presence. Even so, she could still sense his half-smile and hated it. Arrogant bastard! If he thought she was going to accept being ignored, he had another thing coming.

“Oh, I'm sure you found a better way to help some of our internet-addicts, Colonel!”

She was unwarrantedly touchy about the subject and maybe her barbed comments were been unjustly directed toward him, but he had brought it onto himself. Despite the fragile connection that might have formed between them during the lockdown, Catherine still felt she was justified in disliking him. She had tried to avoid him as much as possible in the weeks past and he seemed to be doing the same, which only served to annoy her all the more.

Trying to make as little noise possible and to go unnoticed, one of the nurses in charge that evening was eagerly absorbing every tidbit of information escaping the 'main characters' in order to put together a rather interesting adventure concluding in the horrible maiming and subsequent death of one Catherine Spencer at the hands of an unstoppable Wraith and John and Rodney finding solace in one another's... arms, after vowing to avenge her death. Zelenka wasn't left out either fter all, the more, the merrier. She just couldn't figure out if she was going to make them into a threesome or just a romantic triangle and have him sacrifice himself heroically in the end.

Fortunately for all present, it was impossible to read into the mind of a plotting fan-girl.

“I'm sure I'm not the only that can satisfy the girls' need for fan-service,” John said with a smirk “I'm sure they can find an interesting use even for you, Rodney.”

“Yes, thank you for that,” said Rodney, dryly. “Did you suddenly decide you miss us?”

“Just popping by to tell you Teyla's been talking with the locals and they promised to provide us with a cure for this. Apparently, we'll all be fine after we have a spot of tea.” The British accent he affected at the end really didn't suit him.

From the other side of the room, Radek intervened again. “Maybe with a twist of lemon?”

Absent minded, Catherine didn't even hear Radek's comment, so she didn't try to defend Rodney. Still annoyed by the lack of a proper reaction from Sheppard, she threw him a quick glance. His hair was a mess, his smile just as annoying as she imagined and his entire being radiated the same cheap charm from her memories. The stupid British accent was the last thing he needed to get the gaggle drooling.

As if to confirm her opinion, Stephanie, the aforementioned nurse, was carefully assessing the man's ass with an expression of curiosity and well intended writerly interest on her face. It made Catherine want to slap her, but she felt she was above such acts of impetuosity – she saved those for the Colonel. So she simply grinned and commented.

“Anyway, Colonel, if you didn't find a way to help them yet, I'm pretty convinced Stephanie here can come with suggestions. She looks like she’s having some interesting thoughts about that and maybe she'd like to share them with us?”

To her satisfaction, the girl's face turned beat-red and she mumbled a lame excuse before making her way out of the infirmary.

o0o0o

Stephanie felt slightly guilty, mostly for getting caught admiring the Colonel's... well, for doing _research_ for her new story. She was definitely thinking _threesome_. Furious that Catherine had attracted their attention to her, she stormed out, already coming up with an even more tragic way to fictionally end the doctor's existence - the more angst, the better.

Radek watched her leave, slightly worried with the situation. “I really hope she wasn't thinking what I think she was thinking,” he muttered. The Czech had had the misfortune of accidentally stumbling onto a certain part of the internal network that he still wished he hadn't been witness to. Apparently, some of their colleagues had devised a sort of archive for what could only be best described as _fan fiction_. Oh, some were fine enough - based on books or shows they missed, a few were rather well written actually. What worried him was the amount of space devoted to stories about members of the expedition. The mere presence of their names in the summaries sent shivers down his spine – he would never admit to actually reading any of them, except in the name of scientific curiosity.

He had recognized on Stephanie's face a certain look that made him recall those stories in which his or John's names were present alongside Rodney's or Ronon's, usually separated by a slash. He hadn't been too keen on the subject back on Earth and he wouldn't have really paid much attention in Atlantis, but he did have an inkling of the origin of that practice.

Sheppard, on the other hand, looked genuinely confused. He had missed the nurse examining him in detail and had only a vague suspicion of the existence of said archive. He was equally confused about Catherine and her continued coldness toward him. If anything, she had only gotten worse after they had recovered from the infection.

“I'll leave you alone then,” he said to no one in particular. “There's some details I need to discuss with Colonel Carter about their expedition here.”

o0o0o

He _was_ ignoring her!

Infuriated, Catherine looked up and her eyes met his as he turned around to leave the infirmary. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart began to beat double time as she realized how surprised he actually was by her attitude and a sudden wave of regret swept over her. It was just not fair, she thought, to look at her like that after completely ignoring her presence a few minutes before. Still, she backed away and quickly broke eye contact, almost scared he could read in her gaze a trace of that traitorous regret she was experiencing.

Again, it was not how this was supposed to happen. Colonel Sheppard was supposed to argue and try to make fun of her until she would have made him regret it. What made him stop doing that? She saw him arguing with Rodney and trying to outshine him all the time, why not do the same with her? She pursed her lips in annoyance. She disliked this just as much as she disliked his cocky attitude and that half-smile he was using to underline his superiority.

o0o0o

In her room, Samantha Carter was trying to figure out what to do about getting back home. She had instructed Vala to explain their condition and decline help from another team. It would be useless to get more people involved in this wild goose chase. However, she couldn't help feeling there was still a chance to find the pendant in the Pegasus galaxy.

For the time being, they were stuck in Atlantis along with everyone else because of nothing more than a flue. Sure, even the most common earth flu could kill, but it was a bit embarrassing to have to explain that you had to postpone your mission because of this.

She had only a mild form and she'd been treating it with tea (allegedly, chamomile, but she couldn't be sure) from the very first symptoms. It didn't exactly work wonders, but she was probably not going to touch herbal tea for a long while.

At least the situation gave her time to decide if they were to go back to Earth once the quarantine was lifted or if they should follow up on some more improbable leads.

The silence of the room was occasionally broken by Teal'c's sneezing. It worried her slightly, but this seemed to be the only symptom the Jaffa displayed – the Tretonin was doing its job well at replacing Junior.

o0o0o

Back on Earth, Daniel Jackson, along with a team which was supposed to be sent to Atlantis in a few weeks time, were ready for departure.

Aside from a few hastily added medical officers and Dr. Jackson, the team consisted of several military officers sent to replace fellow officers unable to perform off-world missions any longer and a few new additions to the research staff.

Despite Vala's warnings about an epidemic, the reports said nothing of the sort and opinions had been split rather they should send out this new team this soon or wait for further information from Atlantis. At the insistence of Dr. Jackson, the expedition was being sent ahead of time - officially to assist with any medical difficulties Atlantis was facing and to determine if the search for the pendant should be continued; unofficially, to quell the varying degrees of concern and excitement the members of said expedition were experiencing since the briefing from the previous night.

Among the accompanying officers, Daniel recognized Major Coburn. The circumstances under which he had left command of SG-2 remained pretty much a mystery, but Daniel was glad to have him around, the man having helped them out of many sticky situations in the past.

As for the research team, he had worked with most of them in the past, with one exception - a young archaeologist, Miranda Sharp, who was doing her very best to avoid him. However, going through her file, there were quite a few things that looked familiar – she had changed three universities and four majors before she eventually specialized in the history and mythology of ancient Eastern Europe, among other things. She had come to the SGC's attention with a thesis that paralleled Daniel's own research at the time. She had been hired soon after.

Had she given him the chance, he might have recognized in her one of his own students, but it would have taken a bit more attention to recognize the timid, serious and reclusive chestnut-haired woman before him as the blue-haired whirlwind that used to attend his lectures eleven years before.

o0o0o

After leaving the control room, Vala went straight to her room and closed the door. She could clearly see Daniel wasn't interested in her - at least that was the conclusion she reached when he didn't answer her message. Of course, there was a chance that Daniel was on an off-world mission, but she had her doubts about that. It wasn't like he was the only man around or the best choice for her - Vala realized that a long time ago - but she just couldn't help the disappointment she felt.

Luckily, she wasn't the depressive type and after less than half an hour from the message she was feeling much better. Smiling, she opened the door and almost bumped into the ranking military officer of the Atlantis mission. She made one step back and offered him the most shining smile of her arsenal.

“John! I didn't expect to see you around,” she said, looking up to see his face. A moment later, she realized he was probably there to see Samantha, whose room was next to hers. “I was heading to the mess hall for breakfast, would you like to join me?” she asked anyway.

“Sorry, I was just... I was going to see Colonel Carter about...a thing,” he said, looking adorably awkward . “I should be going,” he added by way of excuse and hurried to the next door over.

''As you wish.” Watching him leave, Vala felt slightly amused. To be true, the earthlings were quite strange - she had reached that conclusion more than once after meeting Daniel Jackson and SG-1. With a little shrug, Vala turned around and headed to the mess hall. The only good thing about the entire flue thing was the absence from there of a certain doctor - and her immunity, which prevented her from visiting the infirmary.

o0o0o

Luckily, John got the right door this time and both Sam and Teal'c were there.

“Um, hi,” he greeted.

“Hi! Anything come up?” Sam asked, closing her laptop.

“Teyla should be back later today with the tea, apparently it's a wonder cure or something. The locals were really surprised we didn't know about it.”

Sam smiled. “Well, isn't that how it usually goes?”

“I guess. Actually, I wanted to ask you if you'll keep looking for that thing it is you were looking for in the first place once this whole flue thing's over.”

Before she could answer, Teal'c cut her off with a sneeze.

“It depends. Are you worried about something?”

“Yes, Vala.” He tried to soften his remark with another one of his rueful smiles, but it didn't quite do the trick.

Sam waved him off, “Don't mind her, she makes a lot of people nervous.”

o0o0o

On P3X - 7G9, Teyla was supervising the packing of the promised plants. It wasn't a big load, but the leaves and flowers had to be carefully selected - the fruit was used in the treatment of another ailment and usually gave off side effects if drank by a relatively healthy person. It still left her with two bagfuls of the indigenous plant and more than a handful in the form of the very guilt stricken village elder.

“It has never occurred to us that outsiders could be so susceptible to our weather. We never see the symptoms you've described this time of year. Come winter...”

“We come from a much... warmer world.” She didn't really feel up to a talk about viruses, antibodies and the already weakened state of the crew's immune system.

“My daughter and her family would be honored if you would join us for dinner,” he said hopefully.

Looking at her watch, Teyla approved. “The honor would be on my side.” She wasn't due to contact Atlantis until midnight.

o0o0o

Catherine didn't like Vala too much. She knew there wasn't really a reason behind that; she just couldn't get herself to like the former goa'uld. Yes, she was close to Daniel, her best friend, and he might even be interested in Vala in return – if he wasn’t by then, at least he would be, she knew him and she knew his incredibly unlucky love life and a possessive, ex-goa'uld with a pushy personality was exactly the one thing he hadn't yet fallen for. Still, Vala flirted with every single man she could find and Catherine had a feeling she didn't always stop at flirting. Only the other day she saw her with Colonel Sheppard, _again_ , presumably having breakfast. Anyway, they seemed more interested in each other than in the food. Poor Daniel. Back then, she managed to keep her mouth shut, but if she was going after Rodney as well...

“Rodney, what do you think about Vala?” she asked matter-of-factly, looking at him as innocent as she could.

“Well, she's good looking, stubborn, strong, a good fighter and you'd be crazy not to like her,” he answered, a bit too promptly.

“Crazy or with very low standards,” Catherine muttered. She really wasn't pleased with his answer. Seeing Vala throw herself at every breathing biped male on Atlantis was bad enough. Thinking Rodney was interested in her was almost outrageous - she had pegged the man for having a bit more brains than that. Heck, she had considered his brains a reason enough to risk her emotional safety on him – but now?

“I hear she's after Daniel, so I don't see why you'd be worrying about her... unless you were after him yourself.” Maybe she was mistaken, but he didn’t sound very pleased with this conclusion really. “You're not, are you? I'd understand you falling for Sheppard - the danger, the adventure, the hair - but what does Daniel have that I don't - except the Ascension thing and coming back from the dead, but I don't see how that has to do with anything.”

“Do I sense a hint of jealousy in your voice, Rodney?” she asked, trying not to stare at him. She allowed herself a little smile of satisfaction.

“Had you asked me the same thing when I was younger, I would have said yes, maybe,” she admitted. “At that time, I strongly believed I was in love with Daniel. He was the only one who cared for me when my mother died, so...”

She looked at Rodney and reached out to touch his hand again, trying to make him relax a bit.

“I'm not denying my attachment to Daniel, Rodney, but he's like a brother to me. I am concerned that Vala can hurt him, especially if he likes her, but that's all. In what concerns the other one... do I even have to remind you he’s not an option for me? I mean, c'mon, I don't even like the guy!”

Watching Rodney's face, she felt an inexplicable shiver of guilt running through her.

“OK, that was completely out of left field,” Rodney interjected. “How long _have_ you known Daniel? I know he's a generally nice guy, but you're painting a much rosier picture than I need to see.”

“Will you two stop bickering for one minute?” Radek intervened from across the room. “I still think a bit of sleep can do wonders for this forsaken cold,” he said, turning on his side so he wouldn't be looking at the two any longer.

Catherine just smiled.

“And stop telling Rodney he's modest!” she heard him saying. “It's only going to his head and it's already big enough I'm afraid it might explode.”

o0o0o

It can be funny how time doesn't stay the same from planet to planet, though you tend to get used to it after a fair amount of off-world travel.

When Teyla left P3X - 7G9 it was almost midnight. Crossing the event horizon of the Stargate, she found herself in Atlantis at midday, with Elizabeth eagerly waiting for her return. They didn't chat, there was no time for chatting, Dr. Weir simply hurried her to the kitchen where the tea would be brewed.

A little way behind them, Vala was watching their actions with bored interest. She could only wish they'd move faster and get on with it so she could be authorized to leave Atlantis and go back to Daniel. She was starting to miss that annoyed look he had on his face whenever he talked to her and the cute way he frowned whenever she pushed him to the limits of his well-known patience.

o0o0o

Catherine awoke to the reverberating sound of a backfiring motorcycle. After the first moments of confusion, she realized the ungodly sounds were coming from the bed next to her and the still slumbering Rodney, mouth agape and cuddling his pillow. She reached out one foot to nudge him and nearly fell out of bed. Before she could try anything else, Stephanie entered the room carrying a giant jug of tea and a tray of mugs.

Finally, the much awaited tea was in sight.

“Please tell me that is what I think it is. I'm dying of thirst here,” she called. The woman stopped and turned to her.

“It's the medicinal tea Teyla brought back from P3X - 7G9. The villagers insist it's the best cure for the flue and gave us a huge batch of the plant. I think they feel sorry for getting us sick in the first place.”

Catherine wondered for a second how on Earth – or Atlantis, whatever – they managed to remember all the names of the planets and snorted “Whatever, I'm parched. Give it here!”

She didn't put much faith in ‘traditional’ remedies, least of all in tea, but that didn't mean she'd say no to a nice, hot mug of the stuff.

As Stephanie poured her a mug, another loud snore resounded from Rodney. This time, Catherine really couldn't help herself and threw her pillow at the unsuspecting scientist.

Startled out his sleep, Rodney bolted upright. “What? Wha-?”

“I didn't know you snored that badly,” Catherine said unperturbed.

Rodney looked indignant. “I have a stuffy nose, thank you!”

Stephanie, with a glint in her eyes, handed him the mug she had poured for Catherine. “Here, this should make you feel better.”

“Oh, thank you,” Rodney said, taking the proffered mug. This gained him a murderous look which, apparently, passed completely unobserved.

Taking a deep breath, Catherine jumped out of bed and reached for the jug. “It looks like a girl has to go through extensive surgery to be noticed around here,” she commented. “Look, give me the tray and I'll take care of everything. You can go... do whatever it is you do when you're not drooling over your patients.”

Stephanie left in a flurry of metaphoric ruffled feathers, plotting to extend fic!Catherine's torture for one more chapter at least and wondering if a Wraith guard had the right parts to commit rape and, if he hadn't, what could be done to improvise.

Left without the source of irritation, Catherine took it upon herself to distribute the tea – which was surprisingly tasty and calming - among the patients in the infirmary. Within three hours, the promised effects started kicking in and she felt well enough to discharge herself along with what was left of the jug.

o0o0o

Elizabeth sat down at her desk, intending to catch up on the recent developments around the station. She opened her laptop while absentmindedly reaching for a mug of tea. Her cold wasn't all that bad, but a cup of tea generally did the trick and this tea was particularly tasty. She made a note of asking the villagers for some more later on.

She was greeted by a few message alerts, one containing a link to someplace on the intranet. People had been using it of late as they did with the internet back on Earth. Last she checked, they even had rival search engines and there were a few... interesting bits of information she wished she hadn't ran into. It was titled _Two Hearts, One Destiny_ and had a warning for lemons – maybe it was something not intended for Rodney.

Her cursor hovered above the link but, before she could click, Chuck called her from the Gate Room – there was an off-world activation.

“It's Earth,” Chuck told her.

“What are they thinking? We clearly told them not to come,” she said, rushing out of her office.

The expedition walked through the Gate, led by a rather confused looking Daniel Jackson. After a moment's hesitation, he walked toward Elizabeth, who was climbing down the stairs to greet them.

“What's going on here, Dr. Jackson? We told you not to come here – there's a serious case of the flue going around,” she said before she reached the end of the stairs.

“Flu?” Daniel asked incredulously. “Vala told us you were in the middle of an epidemic, again. It sounded serious.”

“All the more reason for you not to come! You're welcome, of course, but this goes well against procedure.”

One of the officers stepped forward. “I believe there's been a failure in communication. Stargate Command had decided you need a little help after what you've been through last time. May I speak to the ranking officer of the base?” he asked.

“I'm afraid we haven't been introduced,” Elizabeth said, holding out her hand. “Dr. Elizabeth Weir, the leader of this expedition,” she said, looking him in the eye and deciding she liked the man.

“Major Michael Coburn, pleased to meet you, ma'am. I've been assigned to replace Major Callaway.”

“I'm afraid Colonel Sheppard is still in the infirmary, but you're probably hungry after the trip. I understood the food on the Middle Station isn't all that appetizing.” She spotted Kusanagi in the background and, after searching her memory for the woman's first name, called her over. “Miko, can you please escort our guests to the spare rooms and then show them the mess hall, thank you?”

A cheerful Kusanagi jumped to the occasion and urged them to follow her.

“We've just got this brilliant new tea,” Elizabeth told Daniel. “You should _definitely_ try it.”

o0o0o

The first thing Catherine did once in her room was to turn on her laptop. She hadn't checked her messages in three days and she wasn't surprised to find there weren't a lot of them. Three mission reports, a couple of test results, a misplaced greeting card – they should really try to fix that! – and a link to a strangely named file on the intranet, _Two Hearts, One Destiny,_ whatever that was. It was marked 'WARNING: Lemon – if you don't like, don't read' and, on a quick skim, it looked like a story about... Sheppard and Teyla!

“Wait, _what?_ ”

She looked over the text again and a phrase caught her attention “The fire of her passion burned her into confessing her feelings?” she read it aloud “When the hell did that happen?” she asked herself and continued to read on, helpless.

_The rain continued to pour outside the cavern. Teyla huddled closer to John, his warmth complementing that of the flames. The heat of the fire reflected in her eyes and she sighed._

_Looking at her, John realized how beautiful she was and wondered why he hadn't realized that before. In a hoarse whisper he asked “Is your ankle better?”_

“When did _this_ happen?” Catherine asked no one in particular and took another sip of tea. She decided there might be a clue in the text further on so she kept reading. Last she checked, intimate relationships between members of the same team were strongly disapproved.

_Teyla sighed and answered, staring at the flames “I don't think I can make it to the Stargate. I'm afraid we'll have to spend the night here or we might risk running into the Wraith from earlier.”_

_The thought that if he had been only moments later he would have lost Teyla made John quiver. He sighed. “Don't worry. I think we'll be safe here,” he told her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “You stay here and warm up, I'll go stand guard at the entrance.”_

_Before he could stand, Teyla grabbed his arm. “Please don't go. I'm... I'm afraid of what might happen to you.”_

_John had never before imagined Teyla could actually worry over him._

Catherine nearly spluttered her tea over the monitor. She didn't laugh, but the scene definitely deserved it. It wasn't like John to play the male romantic lead in a Barbara Cartland novel, not that she had _ever_ read one, at least not after she turned five.

_John turned around and looked her intently in the eye. “Are you sure you won't feel safer with me on guard?”_

“ _Yes. I...”_

_The fire of her passion burned her into confessing her feelings. She shouldn't, not here, not now. He was the leader of her team, the man she looked up to and trusted with her heart and soul – could she betray the trust he had in her and reveal she saw him as more than that?_

_He knelt before her and cupped her chin so their eyes could be level. “You what?”_

“ _I... I'm afraid... I will never get another chance to tell you... “_

Catherine stopped and stood up. She felt the unstoppable urge to light a cigarette, which was terribly wrong since she didn't even smoke. She paced the room for a while, looking for the reason for her sudden uneasiness.

Something inside her told her she had to get to the bottom of this. There had to be something in the story that would tell her if it was real or just... She had to know how low Colonel Sheppard would stoop given the chance – it was just intellectual curiosity, really.

“ _Tell me what?” he insisted in a whisper._

“ _If I tell you and you do not like what I have to say, will you promise it will never leave this cavern?”_

“ _Yes, do you not trust my discretion?”_

“ _I... I have fallen in love with you, Colonel,” she said hesitantly._

“ _How could you be so foolish?” he asked and, before she could pull away, he wrapped her in a tight embrace. “It's been months since I've been meaning to tell you the same thing,” he confessed. “The only thing that held me back was your relationship with Ronon.”_

“ _What relationship with Ronon?” she asked surprised. “He and I are only friends, two outsiders among the earthlings.”_

_John sighed and his lips sought hers. Their first kiss was soft and tender, enveloped in the warmth of the fire._

_As the two continued exploring their feelings, the rain poured in an unstoppable torrent over planet P3X - H2O._

“OK, we have coordinates now,” Catherine mumbled. She grabbed her radio and called Chuck, the technician. “Chuck, do you read? This is Catherine Spencer.”

“I read you Dr. Spencer, but we're a bit busy at the moment. A delegation from-”

“It will only take a minute. Can you send me the reports for P3X - H2O? I need to check something important.”

“Right away, Doc.,” he said and she could hear him hitting the keys.

“Thank you, Chuck.”

She set down the radio and turned back to her laptop. Before opening the report, she took another sip of lovely tea.

It looked like Teyla and Sheppard had indeed been separated from the rest of the team and they hadn't been found until the next morning. What was most interesting was that the woman indeed had a twisted ankle. No mistake then, at least part of the story was true.

She decided to look through the other stories in the archive. A lot were about Sheppard and Teyla and had the same _lemon_ warning, whatever that meant. Randomly, she clicked on another story and her eyes flew to a rather expressive paragraph.

_She licked into the kiss, sliding her tongue with his. John sat her on the bed, sliding her blouse off. Her skin was burning hot._

She stopped reading to wonder if under the circumstance it would have been a more romantic gesture for John to send Teyla to the infirmary rather than... fuck her.

She looked over the other stories and decided they were all along similar lines. _Burning hot_ skin, _the fire of her/his passion, their tongs fought for supremacy_ and so much sighing, you wondered if their brains weren't just using it as an excuse to stall.

Wondering why her mug was empty, she poured herself some more tea, sat in front of the laptop and turned on her word processor. She intended to make a report of what she had found to Elizabeth, unfortunately, her mind was full with the images the stories stirred up in her head. Before she could realize what was going on, she had already started typing away at her very own story.

_It was already dark when the team stepped through the Stargate and was greeted by a desolating sight. The Gate was right in the middle of what once had been a flourishing city that had now been reduced to ruins._

o0o0o

Elizabeth returned to her office to notice her tea had gone cold. Not a big loss since it seemed to be just as good.

She sat at her desk and tried to pin down where she knew Major Coburn from. She was certain she knew him from before, but he had left SG-2 before she started working with the SGC. She added a bit more haughtiness, longer hair and her mind provided a leather kilt – Lord Camulus. Genetics was such a funny thing. Two men - one inhabited by a parasitic symbiote - borne light-years away and, possibly, hundreds of years apart, ended up looking so much alike. She set the though aside for the moment and turned her laptop back on. The link was still there, waiting to be clicked.

She skimmed through the story, not really impressed by the mushiness or the literary abilities of the writer. Seriously, who would write the likes of:

“ _I... I have fallen in love with you, Colonel,” she said hesitantly._

“ _How could you be so foolish?” he asked and, before she could pull away, he wrapped her in a tight embrace. “I's been months since I've been meaning to tell you the same thing,” he confessed. “The only thing that held me back was your relationship with Ronon.”_

“ _What relationship with Ronon?” she asked surprised. “He and I are only friends, two outsiders among the earthlings.”_

_John sighed and his lips sought hers. Their first kiss was soft and tender, enveloped in the warmth of the fire._

Aside from everything else, they were completely out of character.

It wasn't the greatest of offences, but she needed to get to the source before it spread.

She gulped down some more tea and decided to look around the archive for any clue regarding its creator before taking it down. What she saw greatly exceeded her expectations. There were over 200 stories solely describing what seemed to be the amorous adventures of members of the expedition and twice as many themed by various movies, books or TV shows. Out of curiosity, she started sifting through the ones starring her colleagues.

Apparently, the preferred couples were John/Rodney, John/Ronon, Rodney/Radek, John/Teyla and variations thereof. To her amazement, there were even threesomes and moresomes (whatever those were). There was even one story chronicling John's tumultuous relationship with a Wraith Queen.

“This is wrong,” she murmured. “Who on this whole base would actually consider...”

There were actually a few centered on Wraith Queens, so she left the comment drop and shook her head.

Clearly, they had to go. One Ctrl+Alt later, all the stories were ready for removal when her eyes fell on the summary for one starring herself and... System Lord Camulus.

Startled, she left the deleting for later and decided to see what the story was about.

There were over two hundred pages of epic romance...

o0o0o

In his room, Teal'c sat typing.

 

 


	5. Episode 5: Of Madness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The crack continues >:D
> 
> Fictional characters writing in-universe RPF :P

**Episode 5: Of Madness**

 

Recently discharged, Rodney walked into the laboratory to find a crowd of people clustered around Kusanagi's tablet. Apparently, everyone forgot about the current project and were enjoying God knows what.

"Isn't anyone here supposed to do some work?" he asked.

Before he finished the question, they had all dispersed, leaving poor Kusanagi alone with the dragon.

"I am sorry sir, I was just showing them-"

"I don't care, just go back to work, everyone."

Those who didn't have anything to do, pretended they did and Kusanagi was about to follow their example but he stopped her.

"You get me some more of that tea from the infirmary, won't you? Thanks" he said.

Before she could leave the Lab, a few others insisted she should bring some back for them as well so she decided to bring a whole jug while she was at it.

Rodney put his tablet on the table and turned it on. He had a message from Elizabeth, one from Chuck, letting him know about the transmission malfunction from that morning, and a link. He had no idea who the link was from – the nick name DarkAngel said nothing to him – but he clicked it, hoping it wasn't another screamer from John.

_The rain continued to pour outside the cavern. Teyla huddled closer to John, his warmth complementing that of the flames. The heat of the fire reflected in her eyes and she sighed._

_Looking at her, John realized how beautiful she was and wondered why he hadn't realized that before. In a hoarse whisper he asked "Is your ankle better?"_

It wasn't. It was worse.

He read on. It looked oddly familiar.

_The fire of her passion burned her into confessing her feelings. She shouldn't, not here, not now. He was the leader of her team, the man she looked up to and trusted with her heart and soul – could she betray the trust he had in her and reveal she saw him as more than that?_

_He knelt before her and cupped her chin so their eyes could be level. "You what?"_

" _I... I'm afraid... I will never get another chance to tell you... "_

It was fan fiction, he could tell from back in his days as a Star Trek fan.

He could only hope it was the first of its kind on Atlantis and he had to find its source before it spread like wildfire.

To his mortification, it wasn't. There already was a decently sized fan fiction archive on their intranet, well hidden enough to pass unnoticed during superficial checks and inconspicuous enough not to alert the antivirus.

"OK, who's behind this?" he asked everyone present but before they could answer, his eyes fell on one of the pairings – Rodney/Radek _. Slash?_ They were writing _slash_ about them? His face grew pale and he plopped into his chair.

"Behind what?" asked Kusanagi, setting down the jug on the desk next to him.

He looked at her in despair. "Nothing, nothing. Just... give me a minute."

"Alright. Here's your tea" she said, throwing him a look of adulation from behind her thick glasses.

Rodney looked at his tea, took a sip and ignored her. He had more pressing matters to solve. Like who on earth was Kaname-chan and why did she write seven stories slashing him and Zelenka.

Curiosity got the better of him and he opened the first he could find, _Well Kept Secrets._ It was surprisingly well written, if you were into the sort of thing. In fact, he was _terrified_ at how well written and detailed it could course, it had angst. Why? What was there to angst over in his relationship with the Czech? They couldn't stand each other. Period. There was nothing to angst over, no flame to light, no burning desire. _Especially_ no burning desire.

_Rodney watched him leave, knowing his words had deeply hurt him. "I couldn't hate you if I tried. Things are complicated, Radek…"_

" _Even if they weren't..."_

And the ellipses! What was up with the ellipses? How many times had people seen him lost for words?

_Radek knelt by the battered body of his friend. Tears filling his eyes, he could no longer hold back the words. "Miluji tě" he whispered. Rodney opened his eyes, but he couldn't understand what he meant_

"Of course I couldn't" he said aloud. "At least they got that part right"

He was a bit surprised to see people staring at him but they returned to work once they realized he had seen them.

With a murderous glare directed at his subordinates, he picked up his radio and contacted Zelenka. How many of them had read the fic?

"Zelenka, where are you?"

"Still in the infirmary, Rodney. Some of us were actually sick, you know."

"Look, very funny. I need you to translate something for me. What does _Miluji tě_ mean?"

Kusanagi and a few other stared at him frozen in their seats.

"It means _I love you_ , Rodney, and don't take me litterally," he added hurriedly. "Should I take that to mean you've been reading slash about us?"

"Yeah, I was reading _Well-_ Wait a sec. How did you know that? And don't sound so innocent about it!"

"You were reading _Well Kept Secrets?_ It's pretty good, actually… except for the angst, the mushiness and the cast of characters."

"You _knew_ about it?" Rodney was aghast.

"I've been trying to delete that archive three times now. It keeps coming back from the dead every damn time. I eventually gave up."

"Do you happen to know who wrote them?"

"If I did, they probably wouldn't still be up. Too many security protocols"

"Great help you've been. I'll find them myself"

"Good luck" Zelenka said cheerfully.

Closing the radio, Rodney set himself to uncovering the source of this new epidemic.

o0o0o

Somewhere in the infirmary, a panicking Stephanie grabbed her radio.

"What is going on with you? You sent the new chapter to everyone! Not _everyone_ in the group _, everyone_ in Atlantis! What if they delete everything again?"

"Don't worry, Kaname-chan has a backup of everything, like she always does" a mysterious voice answered from the other side of the city.

"It's one thing having Dr Zelenka run into us, but Dr Weir? Dr McKay?

"Kaname-chan assured me she has her back well covered"

o0o0o

There was a knock on Teal'c's door followed by Samantha's voice.

"Teal'c? Daniel is here. Do you want to join us for lunch?" she asked.

"I will join you later. Tell Daniel Jackson I am a little busy at the moment" he answered, taking another sip of tea and going back to writing.

o0o0o

Vala was eating alone again and it was starting to worry her. She didn't want this to turn into a habit.

Too bored to actually eat, she was using her fork to chase her food around the plate when she heard a familiar voice in the hallway. To her surprise, Daniel walked into the mess hall, accompanied by a number of other people that looked like they just came from Earth. The sight of him threw off any sign of boredom and she threw herself around his neck before he even had the chance to notice her.

"Daniel, darling, you're here! I wasn't expecting to see you so soon" she said, trying to kiss him welcome.

Daniel managed to duck in time and his gaze wondered to her abdomen which looked quite flat for someone who was eating for two. "You shouldn't be jumping on people like this" he warned her, concerned she might do any further damage.

"And you shouldn't be so serious all the time, Daniel."

She clutched his arm and dragged him off to her table. "I want you to tell me everything that's happened since I left Earth"

"We have time to catch up later. What happened to the child?" he asked in concern.

"What child?"

He looked genuinely concerned. "The one you told me about during the briefing" he explained, wondering how she could be so oblivious for a mother that had come so close to losing the pregnancy.

"Oh, that one. He's fine, there weren't any serious consequences" she answered, wondering why he'd be so concerned about Mara's kid. Unless... But he didn't even know Mara so it had to be just his kind heart at work again. "The tea Teyla brought back today does wonders. Everybody's fine," she assured him and, offering him her own cup, said "Here, try it!"

Daniel took a sip, grateful he wouldn't have to talk about the baby for now.

At another table, Mida sat eating in silence and watching Daniel interact with Vala. There was something about that woman she didn't like. To be honest, there was probably something she didn't like about _any_ woman talking with him like that. She really needed to stop concerning herself with his life, but the woman really was too loud, too intrusive to make a good match for him, she though.

Misinterpreting her expression, Maj. Coburn couldn't refrain from remarking "They make an interesting couple."

She looked at him from across the table. "Interesting is a good word for it."

o0o0o

With a final click, Catherine had finished adding her story to the archive. There, that should teach them how it's done.

Feeling a _burning_ desire to go talk to Col Sheppard – _John_ – she strongly decided against it and locked the door to the room. After reading so many romance scenes, her mind probably stopped functioning normally and she didn't trust herself outside the room – least of all in his company.

To pass the time, she started work on another story, trying to outdo herself.

o0o0o

John was trying to read. He had picked up _War and Peace_ again and had actually made it to page 30 when a knock on the door and Teyla's voice distracted him.

"Colonel, I think you should see this," she said.

"What is it?" he said, jumping out of bed and heading for the door. Whenever he was called to see something, it wasn't a good sign.

"Everyone's acting weird."

He opened the door and gave her a curious look when he was almost blinded by a flash. Another one followed and he wondered if this was what it felt like to be under the sights of the paparazzi.

"What the-" he interjected.

"Precisely" said Teyla.

"Can you please step aside, I want to ask Col Sheppard on a date!" said a woman from behind Teyla.

"Come on, you promised we'd draw to see who gets to ask him out!" another one cried.

There was what could be correctly assessed as a gaggle of women in the hallway, all fighting over who got to date John.

On his part, John was speechless. He had caught wind of the existence of his fan club, but he had never wished to come face to face with it, least of all when they were fangirling.

"Calm down girls, I'm not going out with anyone," he tried to calm them down, offering his most charming smile.

A moment of silence followed before hell unleashed. Two of the closest women pushed Teyla aside, trying to reach the object of their affection. They were followed by most of the others.

John seized the moment to duck back into his room and lock the door before he heard two loud thumps behind it.

"I think you'll be safer in there!" cried Teyla "I'll go check on Ronon."

From behind the door, John chuckled. "You do that, he's probably up to his neck in fangirls!"

o0o0o

In the hallway before Teal'c's room, silence reigned. The few attempts at getting his attention had failed. From within the room, a fine ear could hear the sound of typing.

o0o0o

On her way to the mess hall, Sam had changed her mind. She didn't feel like meeting Daniel just yet. She returned to her room with a strange yearning for Jack's presence. She decided to write him a letter.

On her desk lay two empty mugs and a half-empty cup of tea.

It soon turned into a fairly sentimental letter.

o0o0o

Half an hour had passed since Teyla had left him. He could still hear voices in the hall.

A cry of victory got his attention and he thought he recognized the voice of one of Rodney's researchers.

"I've bypassed the protocol, girls!" she said. "Now, could you _please_ wait in an orderly line?"

The noise actually increased after her call for order. Worried they might actually break through; he grabbed his stunner, hoping he wouldn't get to use it.

A minute later, the door opened to let in a wave of females intent on getting their hands on him.

John wasn't the kind of man that would be easily frightened, least of all by a bunch of women, but these ones looked thirsty for blood. He managed to duck around the first few, but had to use the stun gun on the ones guarding the door to prevent his escape. He bolted down the hallway, with the women still hot behind him. Fortunately, he knew a few shortcuts to the Gate Room and managed to hiss them. Here, he hoped Elizabeth could make some sense of the situation.

He rushed into her office and found her immersed in some important activity. She was reading something on her laptop and barely noticed him enter.

"Elizabeth?" he called, but she was still too immersed in her reading to notice.

"Elizabeth!"

She raised her head and finally noticed his presence. "Sorry, John. I was reading this... thing."

"Don't worry. Do you happen to know why we have hoards of women roaming the corridors in search of prey?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, looking at him as if she saw him for the first time. Had he always been this good looking, she wondered.

"I barely made it out in one piece!" he complained.

"Don't worry. We have the situation under control. McKay is working on it" she answered, completely unaware of what he was talking about. But his eyes were so...

"I was expecting Dr Heightmeyer to be working on this. What does Rodney have to do with charging fangirls? He doesn't even have any!"

"How about we go have lunch?" she suggested, looking meaningfully at him.

John backed out of the room before she could stand. "I'll check with Rodney, just in case."

o0o0o

Rodney felt he was going around in circles. He almost admired the person who had set up the archive – they had hidden it so well, he always ended up where he started from.

Frustrated from his lack of results, he absentmindedly looked through the archive some more. He ran into some interesting fics about himself and John – by now he was too traumatized to look. There had been one in particular that made his skin crawl – it involved a romantic triangle which included a Wraith (what did people have with these things? They kept showing up in these stories. They were like a bunch of cockroach – unstoppable and fascinating).

o0o0o

Wondering down the corridors, John couldn't help wondering where these women kept popping out from. He was almost certain there hadn't been _that_ much interest in him before.

To his surprise, there was quite a crowd waiting outside the lab, though who they were waiting for was a mystery. They seemed to be kept in check by one of the Japanese scientists, one of Rodney's assistants. Come to think of it, maybe Rodney did have his share of fangirls too.

He decided to radio the scientist to make sure at least _one_ person around here, other than himself, was still thinking straight.

"Rodney?"

"I'm working on it!" came Rodney's snappish retort.

"I'm glad to hear that, Rodney. But, what exactly are you working on?" he asked.

"We seem to have a fan fiction archive on our intranet. I'm trying to figure out where it came from."

John looked puzzled. "Fan fiction?" What was so terrible about that? "Do you know what's been going on around here lately?"

"Everyone's left the lab, there have been some strange looks and I ran into a fan fiction archive that Radek has tried deleting three times already and it keeps coming back – which he hadn't told me about until I asked, mind!" he explained indignant.

"I still fail to see how that is a bad thing."

"They're slashing us, man!" Rodney eventually snapped "Or shipping us off with the Wraith!" he added in an alarmed tone.

"It still makes no sense to me," John said, giving up on the whole situation. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to tell him of the women waiting outside for him, either.

He decided it was best to contact the one person that should actually be handling the situation – the psychiatrist.

"Dr Heightmeyer, did Dr Weir tell you what's going on?"

"I have no clue what you're talking about," she said, a bit confused.

"Well, everyone seems to be acting very, very weird. They're definitely not themselves. The women especially seem to be affected."

"I see…" she half-purred. "Then I should really look into it… after I have a long overdue chat with Ronon. Do you know where he might be?" she purred again.

John shook his head. "Not you, too!"

There was no helping it; everyone had been afflicted by this strange outbreak. In this jungle of craziness, he knew there was one last place he would find peace – the one person that hated him enough to feel safe around at a time like this. He hoped he could make it to her room without being noticed.

o0o0o

Mida sat staring into her empty mug.

She had finished eating a while ago, but she couldn't bring herself to leave the mess hall just yet, not while Dr Jackson and Vala were still there, not quite arguing. Her dislike of the woman seemed to increase throughout lunch. What made it even odder was that she felt the impulse to go up to Dr Jackson and tell him how much he meant for her, tell him he was the reason she was here in the first place – even if it hadn't been her intention to follow in his footsteps.

It would have been so easy to slip back into her fangirl ways now that he was this close.

"Are you alright?" Maj. Coburn asked her, placing a hand on her shoulder. She was the last one still at the table, everyone else having gone to their rooms.

She looked up startled. "I'm fine," she answered, calming down once she recognized him. "Just lost in thought."

"Come on, then. I'll walk you to your room before I go look for Col Sheppard. I think there's something odd going on around here."

"You can say that again."

o0o0o

Teal'c sat up and walked over to the large decanter on tea on the other table to pour himself some more before resuming his project.

o0o0o

"Daniel?" Vala asked sweetly, trying to change the subject. "Who's that kid?"

Daniel looked as puzzled as the question deserved. "What kid?"

"The girl that came along with the new guys, I don't remember her from Earth." There was the slightest hint of jealousy in her voice, but not enough for Daniel to pick up on it.

Now, he wasn't going to explain to her how the girl looked familiar or her behavior around him – he had enough weirdness from Vala when she wasn't being jealous. Before he could tell her there was nothing to tell, really, they were interrupted by a tall, blonde, young woman encircling her arms around Daniel's neck.

"I haven't seen you in ages!" she squeed. "When I heard you came to Atlantis, I couldn't believe it. I just had to check on my own."

"Do I know you?" Daniel asked, struggling for air.

The woman untangled herself from around his neck under Vala's glacial gaze. "It's Alice; we worked on that thing with the Tok'ra"

Not that the information gave him any relevant clue as to where he knew her from.

Luckily, Vala was of rather more help this time as she promptly grabbed Daniel by the arm and pulled him out of the mess hall with her. "Come on, I really need to show you something!" she explained as she carried him out of reach of any new form of competition.

On the hallway, they ran into a few groups of women, some looking for Sheppard, others for Ronon and others for guys Vala had never heard of before. Some of the women would turn after them, with a charming smile aimed at Daniel.

"Dr Jackson, I never got the chance to tell you-"

Vala dealt with them promptly by pushing them aside and guiding Daniel after her. "Later, girls!"

Finally reaching her room, she opened the door and pushed Daniel inside before anyone else could interrupt. Well, now… If women all around the base seemed to be acting very unlike themselves, why not join in the fun? Not that this sort of behavior was un-Vala-like, but at least she had an excuse this time.

"Now, Daniel, there's something I've been meaning to tell you for quite some time…" she said, walking toward him and making him back away – back away into her bed.

Daniel cocked an eyebrow. "What's the meaning of this, Vala?" he asked in an annoyed tone.

"Oh, don't worry, Danny-boy! I am very much out of my senses at the moment," she assured with a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

o0o0o

Teyla indignantly chased away another wave of fangirls – it seemed to be her new job ever since this madness started.

"Look, Ronon, you can't hide in there for ever!" she said annoyed.

His voice came muffled through the door. "I don't have to stay here for ever, just until these madwomen calm down," he explained.

The sound of furniture scraping on the floor could be heard from his room. It wasn't the first time that sound made itself known. Ronon had probably built himself a decent sized barricade by now.

"Would you at least let _me_ in? I'm sane. You know I am. I've been keeping them away for over an hour now, Ronon," she pleaded.

"And that would be reason enough to question your sanity," he answered gruffly. He sounded like he was carrying something heavy which he then set down with a grunt. "Besides, if I open this door, even if you are 'sane', I risk letting the others in, which defeats the purpose of barricading the door in the first place."

Teyla leaned against the door in defeat and slumped down, one hand covering her eyes. She should probably leave him and return to her own room, but she felt she couldn't let all these women embarrass themselves like this, nor could she let Ronon seal himself in like this – the situation was strange, true, but this was a bit of an over-reaction.

"Don't you think you are over reacting?" she insisted. "What could I possibly do to you?"

There was a moment of silence. Eventually, he cleared his throat and spoke. "I don't know what you could do to me. I do not know what they would do to me. I do not know what _I_ would do to you. If this were a Wraith invasion, at least I would know what I had to do, but like this, I can only hope to let everything pass without trying to find out where it would lead if left unchecked," he explained, hoping it made more sense to here than it did for him.

"If you say so," Teyla replied.

Seeing Dr Heightmeyer walking toward her, she stood up and forced her expression into a neutral one. "Are you looking for the women?" she asked, hoping someone would finally make some sense of the situation.

"Actually, I'm here to talk to Ronon" she said evenly.

Teyla smile politely. "Good luck with that! He's barricaded himself against female and Wraith intruders."

"I think I might get through to him," she said confidently.

She knocked on the door and was rewarded with a grunt.

"Ronon, it's Dr Heightmeyer. I think there's something here we need to discus."

"And what would that be?" he asked suspiciously.

"About this. About your uncertainties, the ones that prevent you from opening up to the opposite sex," she said in a professional voice, but her eyes told of feelings that were anything but professional.

Hearing her, Teyla couldn't help snigger.

"You really should be more open to outside influences. This way you leave yourself pray to frustration," the doctor insisted.

It was clear the doctor had gone down the same road as her would-be patients for the day, though she would be a little harder to get rid of than the others, thought Teyla. To top it off, she was tired of having to deal with them all day. Maybe it was just easier to give in and join them.

She wrapped an arm around the doctor's shoulders and guided her away from the door before Ronon decided to treat them as Wraith.

"I think he'll be fine for now," she told her. "Let's have a nice cup of tea and discuss this frustration you are worried he might become pray to"

o0o0o

The last few hours spent in the infirmary were actually quite nice – Catherine and Rodney had left, leaving the actually flue-stricken to sleep and actually get better. The tea was nice, all agreed, and it seemed to work quite fast.

Radek was already feeling better and waiting for a doctor to come along and tell him he could be on his way.

"Stephanie," he called the nurse "Can you get a doctor? I really need to get back to work. I don't want to have Rodney talking in my head all day" he explained. Though Rodney had sounded rather immersed in the mystery of the fan fiction archive, Radek didn't wish to have to explain via radio where what was since his last project or what happened to the results from yesterday's experiment with the modified stun guns.

o0o0o

Sam stared at the letter she had written and wondered for a second if it had been such a good idea to set those thoughts to paper.

o0o0o

_He could feel the Wraith close behind him. The damned things seemed to be tracking him, always just one step behind. He wondered if this wasn't just a game – like a cat toying with a mouse, taunting it with freedom before gobbling it up without a second thought. If only he had a P-90 or his stunner with him, but those had been abandoned in the suicidal ambush they had prepared for the invaders._

_After a sharp turn, the darkness of the corridor was pierced by a single light shining at the other end of the hall. He hurried toward it, but hesitated before he knocked on the door – he knew who would wait for him behind it and, for a moment, considered facing the Wraith as the safer option. Common sense got the better of him so he called "Catherine, are you in there? Open quick!"_

_Catherine snapped shut her laptop and hurried toward the door. Hearing the desperation in his voice, she grabbed her stunner before opening the door. She pulled him in quickly and shut the door behind him before the first Wraith showed itself at the end of the hallway._

" _Are you alright?" she asked before she realized her worry was showing._

" _Yeah, thanks"_

" _If I had known it was you, I'd have probably left you out there" she said, knowing as well as he did that she was lying. "Why didn't you head for Teyla's room?" she asked reproachfully._

" _What does Teyla have to do with this?" The confusion and hurt in his voice was nearly painful to listen to._

" _You're at her every beck and call," Catherine started. "How many nights have you spent with here since you and me…" her voice broke down into a whimper._

_John carefully removed the stunner from her hand and wrapped her into an embrace. "Don't be silly. We spent last night looking over possible strategies to counter a Wraith attack," he assured her. He placed a kiss on the top of her head. "And there hasn't been anyone else since… you and me…" he mimicked her hesitation._

_She jerked out of his embrace. "And you wait for a Wraith attack to tell me this?" this was the sort of anger that suited her better, not the jealous outbursts from earlier._

" _There might not be a better time anytime soon," he protested and leaned in to steal a kiss._

_He needn't have hurried fore she was about to offer one herself._

A knock on the door startled Catherine out of her writing.

"Catherine, are you there? Open, quickly!" she could hear John's voice from outside the door.

Snapping her laptop shut, she hurried toward the door which she opened hesitantly. The man before her looked like he had been chased by the Wraith through half of Atlantis. Without a second though, she pulled him inside just in time to see a hoard of women hurrying down the corridor towards them. She closed the door before they could reach it.

o0o0o

Stephanie walked over to him smiling. "There aren't any doctors available, I'm afraid. There's something odd going on in the city and they're either in the Lab working on it, or in their rooms hiding," she said. Seeing the worried expression on his face, she added "Don't worry, it's nothing serious. Some of the girls are a bit... excited, that's all."

"What do you mean 'excited'?" She hadn't managed to ease his worry.

"Nothing serious. I think it's just a side effect of the flue" she insisted.

The poor Czech looked helpless and confused as he searched for his glasses on the bedside table.

Stephanie had meant to check on Dr McKay, but she didn't dare brave the mass of women gathered outside the laboratory. Besides, the sight of Radek, freshly awoken, with tussled hair and that disoriented look in his eyes, was adorable. Maybe she didn't need to go all the way to the lab, after all, the man before her had already been part of her fantasies – it was time to offer him a leading role.

"We can deal with the formalities later, you look well enough to me. I say you can definitely go home," she said cheerily. "How about we go have a cup of tea?" she offered.

Radek stopped his search for the elusive glasses and turned to her "Maybe some other time" he declined politely. "I think Rodney needs some help at the moment," he said, pulling out his radio in order to contact his colleague. He wasn't sure how to react to her offer, so he tried putting it off by returning to familiar problems – like irascible Canadians and fan fiction archives. He didn't expect to have his radio pulled out of his hand before he could even turn it on and to have the woman's face so close to his.

"Come, now, Dr Zelenka. You can go to the lab later. Dr McKay can do without you for a few more hours," she purred. "Shall we?" She grabbed his arm and pulled him out of bed, looking rather dishevelled and intending to make him look even more so when she was through with him.

o0o0o

Stunned, Daniel watched Vala approach the bed, slowly unzipping her jacket to reveal nothing except skin and what a Lilliputian might claim to be a pink lace bra. He stared in fascination at her, swallowing hard and trying to keep his cool.

"I don't think this is the time to-" he wanted to object but she silenced him by climbing onto his lap and placing one finger on his lips.

"Shush" she said. "We haven't seen each other in a month now, and you won't even let me kiss you hello," she complained, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him towards her. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna do anything you wouldn't enjoy"

"Vala-" Daniel tried to protest but he was interrupted by her lips pressing against his. He would have given in, he wanted to give in, but he didn't want to be caught up in her games. He knew her well enough to tell that it was a game, as always.

Her hand wondered down to his belt and began unbuckling it but he caught it and, at the same time, pulled out of the kiss. "Not like this, Vala," he reproached.

With a gleam of mischief in her eyes, Vala protested. "But you had nothing against it back in the tavern inn, or does a girl have to get you drunk to have you in her bed?" She let go of his collar and placed the hand on his chest. "You can't pretend I'm not welcome" she said, looking down suggestively.

Daniel's patience had reached its limit. He pushed her off and hurriedly sat up. Running a hand through his hair, he frowned trying to think of something other than the half-naked woman on the bed and ran into an even more frustrating image – himself waking up naked, tied to a bed in a tavern inn on a distant planet after too much alcohol and God knows what else she had done to his food. "That night is exactly what I want to talk to you about," he said abruptly.

"Do you want a repeat of that or a reconstruction?" Vala asked, already pondering where she could get some rope and alcohol. "Some rope can't be that difficult to find and I'm sure there must be some alcohol in the kitchen," she offered brightly and still rather topless.

"No to all of the above." He stopped her before she bounded out of the room in search of ingredients for another night of fun, frustration and future confusion. "I want to talk about the baby."

"I told you, the baby's fine. Why do you keep asking about it?" Vala asked genuinely confused.

Daniel stared at her in amazement. "Why? There is the slightest of chances of me being the father. Of course I'm worried!" he snapped.

It was Vala's turn to be stunned, confused and furious. "What?" For the first time that evening, she was lost for words.

"What I don't understand," Daniel continued "is why you treat this like it isn't even your problem!"

"It isn't!"

"You're pregnant, Vala. Of course it's your problem!" he insisted, feeling a headache set in.

"I'm what?"

"Pregnant, it's what they usually call it when you have a baby growing inside you!"

"I know what it means, Daniel and I think I'd be the first to know if I were," Vala explained. "What I can't understand is why you are going on and on about Mara's baby!"

Daniel blinked a couple of times before frowning and eventually offering Vala the purest look of confusion. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or sorry, but he was definitely confused by all this. "Mara?" he asked.

"Yes, that's what I was talking about. Now, how come there's a chance you might be the father?" she asked him, finally catching the cause of this whole misunderstanding and deciding to play with it to his eternal confusion. He looked so cute when he frowned like that and she just couldn't help herself from teasing him. "You act all gentlemanly around me, always running away when I get too close, but you have nothing against sleeping with a married woman."

There was that frown she loved so much. "I thought _you_ were pregnant. I thought that night, at the inn-" but she shushed him and he knew she was toying with him again.

"That night at the inn" she began purring "was ... unforgettable, but I assure you, Daniel, that I am not pregnant." She pulled closer and pressed herself against him "But if you'd like to give it another try..."

With a sigh of relief, he untangled himself from her grip and pushed her toward the bed. "You should get some sleep," he suggested "And I should do the same." He saw the wicked smile that was beginning to form on her lips and stopped it by adding "In my own room."

Before he could reach the door, Vala stopped him again. "I don't think it's safe. Stay here, for now. I promise I'll behave – no need to fear for your innocence."

Even if she did behave, impossible as that may seem, he worried he wouldn't. "I'll take my chances."

o0o0o

The alert showed up out of nowhere – there was a new message waiting. Rodney gave it an annoyed look. "What now?"

He had good reason to be annoyed. He had spent all evening trying to bypass protocols and override passwords and all he could tell was that this had been set up by a pro. If he weren't so annoyed with the whole situation, he might have considered promoting the one responsible once he found who they were.

There was a new story added. Great! At least the pairing was a change – John Sheppard/Catherine Spencer.

Wait, _what_? John/Catherine? After all the bashing Catherine got in all the other fics she was in?

The title was suggestive, _Up the Walls,_ exactly where this mess was already driving Rodney. Out of curiosity and maybe something else – after all, he was officially sort of dating Catherine – he opened the story and read through.

o0o0o

John had forgotten how small Catherine's room was, a detail he wasn't officially supposed to know. He looked for some place to sit, feeling awkward standing around like that, but the only thing he could see was the bed and that would have made the thing all the more awkward.

"Thanks for that," he said, pointing toward the door.

"No need. If I had known what it was about I wouldn't have let you in. What's stopping me from handing you over to them, anyway? There must be _something_ you've done to get them that excited." She was making for the door, as if to open it again.

He tried to catch her before she got there, but she simply ducked out of his way.

"I didn't do anything. They've been acting like that all evening," he said, genuinely confused.

Maybe under different circumstances Catherine would have given him more credit, only this time she wasn't listening, still thinking about the story with him and Teyla and how much of it was true. Her hand hovered above the panel. "As if I trusted you!" she snapped.

Slightly annoyed, he caught her hand before she could open the door and pulled her to him. "Listen, they've been acting like that all evening, probably longer. They're not just after me. There's a whole hoard of them waiting outside the lab for Rodney, God knows what Dr Heightmeyer's planning to do with Ronon, several officers have gone missing, the male doctors are locked in their rooms, Dr Weir's glued to her computer and has asked me out"

She stepped back with a murderous look. She couldn't free her hand, so she tugged him after her toward the wall. "Has she? Good luck to her!"

With her free hand, she tried to reach the panel. "I think Rodney needs a hand."

Taking a deep breath, John caught the other hand as well, and had Catherine now almost pinned to the wall. "You're not going anywhere. I want some explanations and I am going to get them." This time he was beyond annoyed, he was angry. "Let's start with why exactly you hate me, because I can't think of another name for your attitude towards me."

Catherine was straight out ignoring him, trying to keep back tears of annoyance and frustration.

"After what happened in the lab, I was expecting things to change – you've got to prove yourself, I saved your life..." he wouldn't have brought the last point up under normal circumstances, but, for the past month, she had been acting as if their time stuck in the lab, racing against death, hadn't happened at all. If anything, she had grown even more antagonistic and childish around him. If this was some strange form of pulling of pigtails, this woman was beyond his understanding.

"And how should I thank you? I've saved more lives than you and I never expected anything in return," she said looking him in the eyes.

"I wasn't asking for thanks. I was asking for you to grow up."

Catherine would have slapped him had her hands been free. As they weren't, she had to be content with another murderous look. She wasn't going to embarrass herself by struggling in his arms like the helpless heroine of a bad romance.

"Precisely what I was saying." he continued. "You act as if I'm your greatest enemy without the slightest reason for it. We have to work together and as long as you act like this, we're only going to endanger those around us."

"I never said I _hate_ you," she snapped at him.

Her heart was pounding, first with anger and, once she could hear her own words, with the pain of realization. Her eyes wondered away from him and she caught sight of her laptop. She had spent all day writing about his embraces and his kisses and now that she found herself in his arms, everything was going all wrong. She couldn't hold back the tears anymore so she turned her face down to hide them.

"I _don't_ hate you," she whispered.

"Then stop acting like a spoiled brat," he said softly and released her hands.

Finally free, Catherine felt the need to be as far away from him as possible. Either that or jump into his arms and make a complete fool of herself when he turned her away. She couldn't leave the room without running into the hoard of desperate women outside, so she walked to her bed and plopped down. Her lips quivered and tears began to streak her cheeks. She actually felt childish now.

She always managed to ruin everything.

Taken by surprise by her outburst, John watched her helplessly. Whatever it was that he had said, she had taken it to heart. The whole day was a mess and he had just made it worse.

"I don't know what exactly I've done, but I'm sorry," he said, sitting down next to her. He didn't dare soothe her least she changed her mood again and maimed him or something so he caught his head in his hands and sat next to her in silence. A minute later, he felt her head lean against his shoulder and, for a moment, he froze, not wanting to startle her away.

He wasn't sure what was going on with them, but at least it was some sort of progress. Unless he had wondered straight into the lion's den. But he couldn't have! Even if she didn't hate him, her dislike for him was great enough that she wouldn't be chasing after him down the corridors with the other fangirls.

What worried him worse was that he didn't mind having her lean on him, not really. It was a comforting weight and the sound of her steadying breath close to his ear was oddly relaxing.

Carefully so not to stir her, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He felt her tense, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she silently pressed her lips to his shoulder and reached after his other hand.

Surprised, he turned to look at her and they were once more staring into each other's eyes, their faces a breath away. It occurred to him he should pull away before things went too far, instead he sat there watching in silence, unable to break the spell.

Her normal arrogance was missing and she was looking at him with the timid hesitation of a blushing teenager. She looked otherworldly and more feminine than ever, her body tense with anticipation and her lips slightly parted – he would have had to be blind not to read the signs right. And he would have needed a clearer head to say 'no' but to his surprise, he lacked the will for that.

Without thinking, he brushed the hair away from the back of her neck. He guessed more than felt her shiver and stopped, watching in awe as she shut her eyes and leaned forward in silent invitation. His breath caught in his chest as he closed the distance and brushed his lips over her eyelids and then her cheek.

Her hand freed itself from his and she pressed it to his chest before circling it around his neck and pulling him closer. He could feel her body strung so tight it was almost vibrating next to his and he shut his eyes, leaving his lips find hers by instinct.

"What the hell are you doing paired up with Catherine?" Rodney's shocked voice sounded, loud and clear, in the radio.

John and Catherine nearly knocked their heads together in surprise.

"What?" John's voice sounded a little guilty, his arm still wrapped around Catherine.

" _John sat down next to her on the edge of her bed, lost for words. He knew he had pained her, but he was also aware she wouldn't accept his words of comfort so soon after. Helpless, he took her into his arms and cradled her until her tears stopped flowing._

_Catherine looked up to find his worried eyes upon her, realizing with a start how close they actually were._

_Silently, he leaned in closer and gently pressed his lips to hers,"_ Rodney read. "And it goes on like this for a few pages, should I go on?"

All of a sudden, Catherine tensed and choked. John looked up to see if the camera was active, but the little light was off. Misunderstanding her reaction, he tried to calm her by pointing out the offline camera.

"Where are you, by the way?" Rodney asked.

"Hiding from the mob," John answered. It wasn't the full answer, but it suddenly felt wrong to be alone with Catherine under the circumstances and it felt worse to tell Rodney where he really was.

o0o0o

When Elizabeth finally reached the end of the story, she was amazed. She had begun reading it out of a strange sort of impulse and had continued reading to the end out of curiosity, then outrage and eventually fascination. The story was good enough in its own right; she had to admit. If you ignored the fact that the story was a romance between herself and a goa'uld, you could probably even call it enjoyable.

She was about to call Rodney on the radio when the officer from earlier walked into the room.

"Maj. Coburn, did you find Col Sheppard?" she asked, offering him a friendly smile. It was uncanny how well he resembled the System Lord.

"That's precisely why I'm here. Col Sheppard is nowhere to be found and there seems to be a lot of commotion on the hallways."

"Well, he was here earlier," she said and she suddenly blushed as she remembered asking him out. She wondered if she should apologize or go ahead and invite Rodney as well to make it less awkward. She reached for her mug and remembered it had been empty for the past seven chapters. "Have you tried our tea? I think we should stock up on it, it seems to be very popular," she said, walking around her desk toward Maj. Coburn.

"I have, but-"

"Dr Weir, this is Dr Meyer. We found something that might interest you," came a voice over the radio.

"What is it, Dr Meyer?" Elizabeth asked.

"We found the cause of the strange symptoms the women in Atlantis have been showing lately."

Elizabeth vaguely remembered John mentioning something of the sort, but she wasn't quite sure what had been happening. "What weird behaviour?"

"Have you ever seen an Elvis concert?"

"I've seen recordings. Why?"

"Have you seen the girls in the audience?"

"The fans? Yes, they usually tend to be a bit... even these days."

"That's more or less what's been happening here. The women seem to have developed obsessions for several of our male colleagues and act toward them the way Elvis fans used to do. The men have either gone into hiding or have resolved to take advantage of the situation."

"And do you happen to know where Col Sheppard is?" Elizabeth asked worried.

"Hiding, I think. There's been talk of him being chased around the city by groups of very ardent admirers. The good news is, we found the cause – that tea Teyla brought back yesterday. It did wonders against the flue but it also acted like a drug in reaction to female hormones."

Elizabeth gave her mug a wary look. At least she now had an excuse for earlier. "Is there anything you can do about it?"

"Not really, but the effects aren't permanent and, once we run out of tea, everything should be back to normal in a few more hours."

"OK, thank you, Dr Meyer."

o0o0o

On the other side of the city, a door opened to reveal a greatly dishevelled Zelenka. His clothes were in disarray, his hair was tussled and his glasses weren't quite straight, but he was grinning and he no longer looked quite as innocent as when Stephanie had taken him into her care.

o0o0o

The next morning, everyone was gathered in the briefing room, waiting for Elizabeth who had called the meeting.

Except for John and Maj. Coburn exchanging lively remarks on the events of the previous day, the room was immersed in silence. There were, however, a lot of suggestive glances being exchanged by all else present.

Sam was looking guiltily around; glad she had come to her senses by morning and had torn up the very embarrassing letter she had written to Jack.

Vala had stayed up all night, surfing the intranet until she had found a very interesting story concerning herself and Daniel Jackson. The tone of the story was unmistakable and the details were known to only a few people. She knew who wrote it, of course she did. What surprised her was to find that _he_ would actually support this relationship. Her eyes kept darting over to Daniel as she smothered a knowing chuckle.

Daniel however kept avoiding Vala's eyes, only glancing toward her every now and then to see if she was still looking at him. Her smile worried him the most.

Teal'c watched the two of them with some interest and a knowing smile.

Ronon seemed to be the only one still visibly affected by the drug, though in his case the effect had been paranoia. It had taken John half an hour to get him to take down the barricade and another unsuccessful twenty minutes to get him to leave his stunner behind. His stunner was on the table before him, in easy reach should Dr Heightmeyer try anything.

Teyla kept a watchful eye on Ronon and his gun, ready to step in if he felt threatened.

Radek sat next to Rodney, with a smug air about him, daring the Canadian to say anything about it.

Rodney kept working on his tablet, every now and then throwing a quick look at Catherine and John, each seated at opposite ends of the table.

Catherine alone wasn't looking at anybody, carefully examining her nails. There was a guilty air about her, but everyone was too preoccupied with their own affairs to worry about her. No one except John who realized what was wrong but didn't dare approach her under Rodney's suspicious looks.

When Elizabeth finally arrived, even Maj. Coburn went quiet. The tension in the room had become almost tangible.

"Good morning, everyone. Yesterday was a rather eventful day. I expect you have been briefed on what caused the outbreak of abnormal behaviour, so I won't insist on the subject. As for the tea, the cooks assure me there is none left – apparently it has all been consumed in the course of yesterday – and I have left instructions that none should be brought back again."

There was a sigh from Radek's end of the table.

"I had no idea it would have such effects. The villagers have been drinking it for generations without any obvious side effects. I asked around the base and it seems it has only affected the women coming from Earth," Teyla said, then gave Ronon a worried look and added "and Ronon, but the effects on him have been the complete opposite."

Everyone turned to Ronon who looked a bit more tense than usual.

"I'm perfectly fine!" he snapped, trying to hide his initial move of reaching for his stunner.

Daniel frowned and gave Vala a knowing look which she answered with the most innocent smile.

"I expect a detailed report about the events of yesterday and last night from every one of you and a detailed report from the medical staff" Elizabeth said.

Catherine barely registered her request with a nod, lost in her own thoughts.

Suddenly, Rodney jumped to his feet. "This can't be!"

"And I expect a full report from you, Rodney, on the infamous fan fiction archive," said Elizabeth, unsurprised by his outburst.

"What archive?" Coburn asked confused.

John patted him on the shoulder. "I'll explain later," he promised before turning to Rodney, who was franticly tapping on his tablet and looking desperately around. "What can't be?"

Radek, who had been looking over Rodney's shoulder answered for him. "He found what computer the archive has been created on."

"Well?" asked Elizabeth.

"Mine," said Rodney in a broken voice.

"That explains why I couldn't bypass the protocols," said Radek.

"It doesn't explain how they got there in the first place!" Rodney retorted.

o0o0o

"What natural inclinations are you talking about?" Catherine asked.

They were working on the final report on the tea incident and the older woman was going over the test results.

"I mean, the substance simply removed all inhibitions. The desire and craziness were already there, in a mild, controlled form, all along. Dr Heightmeyer would probably explain this better. It simply brought to the surface subconscious desires," Dr Meyer explained.

"Great, not only did all the women make fools of themselves when under the drug's influence, now they're even deprived that excuse. Can I ask you not to include this in your report; we really don't want the guys getting too confident?"

Dr Meyer wondered what Dr Spencer had been up to the previous day, the younger woman blushing under her gaze.

In the hallway outside the lab, John smiled and decided to walk away.

o0o0o

Late in the evening, Catherine finally returned to her room and eagerly opened her laptop. The unfinished story was still waiting for her and she hurriedly deleted it. She couldn't risk having that unleashed in the world.

Thinking about it, it was probably a good idea to delete the other one as well. It was bad enough knowing that Rodney had read it already. She could only pray John knew nothing of it beside the fragment Rodney had obliged to read them.

She typed in the address of the archive and to her surprise found she had a couple hundred views as well as a dozen comments. She decided to read them, out of curiosity, before deleting the story and changing her nick name. Who would be as stupid as to choose _Sheppard's Girl_ as a screen name, anyway?

_Great work for a newbie._

_Update soon._

_Great chemistry, maybe they'll get to it in real life soon._

That last comment made her fume. She really should delete the story as fast as possible.

There was also a message from the administrator, Kaname-chan.

_Sheppard's Girl, great work on your first story and welcome to the club. I do have to give you a warning for not putting the correct rating, please remember to do so next time. Also, I've backed up the archive last night after all the excitement and you won't be able to edit or operate any changes._

In the summary of the story, the warning for _lemon_ was added.

 

 


	6. Episode 6: Best Laid Plans

**Episode 6: Best Laid Plans**

 

The jumper was heading for the mainland on a rather unorthodox pattern of flight. One could even compare it to a drunken bat that had hit its head against the belfry one too many times and was now desperately trying to find which was the right way up before perching upside-down in the nearest barn. This was not entirely the case, but with Rodney driving, Catherine could only be grateful there were no belfries in sight.

She was hanging on for dear life, a paper bag clutched to her chest just in case. Another wild loop almost threw her out of her seat.

"I'm starting to think this wasn't such a good plan," she complained.

"We're good," said Rodney encouragingly. He finally got the jumper sort of stabilized, but it was incredibly difficult to keep it flying in a straight line even once you stopped looping. He hated to think of the trip back, let alone getting it parked back in the Jumper Bay.

After a few failed attempts at dating these past few days, Rodney concluded that the only place they could get some privacy was on the mainland. Until then, they had been interrupted first by a grinning Zelenka, then by an annoying Vala that insisted on giving them tips for "the magic night" – she seemed to have a knack for popping up at the precise moment to create the maximum amount of embarrassment – and by John a couple of times, for no apparent reason. This called for extreme measures – maybe this thing with Catherine wasn't going anywhere, but at least they were going to find that out without constant interruption or 'help'. Thinking back on it, it might not have been such a good idea to take a jumper for this picnic.

Landing was another tricky matter. He managed to dodge a patch of trees before unceremoniously dropping to the ground like an oversized brick – good thing the jumpers were meant to resist attacks and, apparently, Rodney's driving skills, or he would have hell to deal with once they returned and had to account for every scratch and nick on the bodywork.

Catherine shakily got out of her chair. She had become accustomed to near death experiences since she came to Atlantis, but she definitely didn't intend on making a habit out of these weekend drives in the jumper, at least not with Rodney at the wheel. She found her feet just as unsteady as her boyfriend's flying and she didn't dare walk until she stopped shivering.

"See, we made it!" Rodney said with fake cheerfulness. He wasn't looking forward to the return flight. With all this excitement, he felt a bit hungry. "Can you get the food?"

Catherine looked around for the picnic basket that was no longer where they had placed it when they left. Come to think of it, it didn't look much like a picnic basket once she found it under the back of Rodney's chair. It had a distinct squashed quality about it. She gingerly lifted it and held it up in front of Rodney. "Was this what you meant?"

He looked mournful at the former basket. "At least the chocolate bars are intact, right?"

Catherine pried it open. The fruit they had taken with them had morphed into a paste and she could distinctly make out the opened food containers into which it had spilled. "Nope..." There was little regret in her voice, though, after their flight, she doubted her stomach would ever again accept the sight of food.

Rodney took the basket from her and looked inside himself. He scraped aside some of the fruit paste and managed to salvage a chocolate bar – a bit squashed, very sticky, but still in its wrapper – which he held up victorious. "Not all is lost!"

He was so pleased with his find that not even Catherine's murderous look could make him give it up. He stuffed the sticky chocolate bar in his pocket and tried to offer a compromise. "How about we go berry picking?"

Catherine, still shaking with shock, glared furiously at him. They had nearly crashed into the ocean on their way there, she had come that close to spending half the trip on the ceiling, their landing wasn't the smoothest, her stomach was tied in knots, her patience was reaching its limit and he wanted to go berry picking like they were in some sort of folk song!

"Where have you been for the past half hour?" she said, hiding her face behind tired hands.

"Relax! It was better than the last time I tried this. Have some chocolate, it will help your nerves," he offered, taking out the chocolate and unwrapping it. "It might be low blood sugar."

Catherine shook her head and slowly made her way to the door, still a bit unsteady, but very much aware she might say something she would later regret if she stuck around any longer.

Rodney shrugged. More for him. Oblivious to her outburst, he bit into the chocolate bar and followed her out.

o0o0o

"Unscheduled off world activation," cried Chuck from his desk.

Elizabeth hurried out of her office with John following behind. They had been discussing the issue of continuing their searches for the anti-Ori weapon once SG1 returned to Earth.

"Any IDC?"

"It's Major Lorne."

"Lower the shield!"

The major came through the gate. He was alone and ahead of schedule, however, he somehow looked victorious.

"What happened? Where's the rest of your team?" asked John, throwing a concerned look at the now inactive gate.

"We found the ruins intact, just like the Athosians told us, and we decided to look around and make sure the perimeter was secure before reporting back. Smith got himself in a bit of a spot, though, but the guys are with him. The idiot found himself a nice little statue to make fun of and triggered a defence mechanism. He's trapped. We may need a doctor once we get him out, but he should be fine – it wasn't anything serious. The place is in pretty good condition. We might actually find the artefact still there," Lorne explained, still trying to catch his breath.

"I'll tell SG1 we may be on the right track this time. Colonel Sheppard, perhaps you can take your team and assist them," Elizabeth suggested.

"I was just thinking the same thing," John smiled. He was as curious about this mysterious artefact as anyone else.

Looking around, he noticed Rodney's absence. By now, he would have been fussing around, tablet in hand, collecting new data or something and telling everyone how they were supposed to do their jobs.

"Where's Rodney?"

"I gave him permission to take a jumper to the mainland," said Elizabeth. "I think he's getting a bit paranoid about his date with Catherine. He mentioned everyone being out to sabotage it..."

John rolled his eyes at the thought. Who would want to sabotage his date? Yes, he did walk in on them a couple of times, but he had some things to discuss with Catherine – it was unnerving how he never managed to get her alone.

"Major, you think you're up for a flight to the mainland to pick up the two lovebirds? If they managed to land, that is. It would be cruel to let Rodney pilot his way back." And it would have been crueller if he went after them. Rodney was paranoid enough as it was.

Lorne, still a bit stiff and tired, nodded his agreement.

"Perfect. I'll go get everyone else."

o0o0o

After half an hour spent awkwardly searching for a neutral topic – one not related to tea, fan fics or John's ever increasing harem – they had finally found a nice, grassy place to sit. Still a bit sore after their flight there, Catherine had asked Rodney something about the jumpers. It had been enough to spark him into a long and in-depth description of how exactly they worked and all the tricks one needed to know to fly them successfully. It was surprisingly relaxing to listen to him prattle on about one of his favourite subjects. It was also baffling how he could know so much about the craft but be completely useless at flying them.

She sat like that, listening absently, for a while. It struck her that if she let him go on at this rate, they would probably be here all day, talking about starship engines. So she decided to act out of character.

She grabbed his hand and waited for him to stop.

He did. Abruptly.

He swallowed the last word and tried to hide his panic.

Not half as sure of herself as she let on, Catherine smiled brightly at him. "We aren't getting anywhere like this."

Looking almost terrified, Rodney nodded.

"We're on a date…"

He nodded again, feeling the urge to back away, but fascinated by her approach.

"We're finally alone…"

She placed her free hand on his shoulder.

"And we've covered more mechanics than we need to at the moment."

He would have objected to that last one, but it was a bit difficult to speak when a pair of lips are pressing against yours.

Rodney's brain had finally caught up with events and decided there was no need for its intervention.

To his surprise, despite being the one with the initiative again, Catherine was just as hesitant and shy at this as he was.

Slowly, he freed his hand from her grip and wrapped it around her waist, pulling her closer. With his other hand, he brushed away a strand of her hair that was threatening to come between them. His hand lingered on her cheek as he deepened the kiss into something more intense, yet still as innocent as it had started.

Catherine pulled back a little and, smiling, she whispered "See, it wasn't that hard."

He shook his head and pulled her into his arms again. This time, there was more passion behind the kiss and Catherine had completely abandoned herself to his lead.

The rush of excitement was overwhelming. Their hearts beat faster, air didn't seem all that important and their ears whirred with the sound of rushing blood.

Rodney's brain decided it was time to stop enjoying the view and remind him that wasn't the sound of blood rushing to his head but that of a landing jumper.

Reluctantly, they pulled away from each other as they registered the intruding ship. Catherine fell back onto the grass, covering her eyes with one arm. "I hope it's not who I think it is," she mumbled, annoyed.

The jumper finally landed, revealing the intruder to be Major Lorne. He wasn't alone; another officer came out after him and rushed toward the other jumper.

When he was close enough to hear them, Rodney stood up and greeted him with a sarcastic "John sent you, didn't he?"

Lorne nodded. "We need you on a mission, Dr. McKay. And since she's already with you, Dr. Spencer can come along as well. We might need a medical doctor with us," he explained hurriedly.

Catherine, still lying in the grass, raised a hand for someone to help her up. When that someone turned out to be the one that had disturbed her date, she rolled her eyes and sat up on her own. She threw Rodney a quick, killer look, but it was too quick for him to catch it.

"Why would Colonel Sheppard ask you to come all the way here to get us?" Catherine asked dryly, heading for the jumper ahead of him.

Lorne hesitated for a second before filling them in on the events of the expedition – the temple was intact, the traps were working, some brains were not and one member of his expedition had gotten himself stuck.

Catherine was not pleased with the prospect of an off world mission, but it beat the prospect of another argument with Sheppard regarding her maturity and duties to the mission. She reached the jumper first and seated herself quietly next to the pilot's seat.

The trip back was surprisingly shorter and straighter compared to the one from Atlantis. It took a lot of willpower not to joke about Rodney's flying skills.

The other officer followed close behind in the other jumper.

o0o0o

The gate on P3X 32Z turned out to be placed half-way up a rocky hillside, three miles down from the temple they were interested in.

Sheppard and Lorne were leading the way, their P-90s handy, followed by Daniel Jackson who was unsuccessfully avoiding Vala's attempts to grab his arm. Sam and Teal'c followed behind, immersed in a discussion about their odds of finding the weapon there. Rodney was helping Catherine keep up – if possible, she was in worse shape than him. Miranda was caught between complaining about the rocky terrain and admiring the sight on her first off world mission, every now and then being dragged back to reality by Coburn who had to pull her along when she stopped to sightsee. Teyla and Ronon brought up the rear, watching out for signs of ambush – this place was a bit too quiet for their taste.

Catherine had learned from experience and hadn't protested when Major Coburn offered to carry her equipment. It might have had something to do with the person as well. All in all, she was trying her best not to complain too much, keeping her comments generally to herself and Rodney.

In turn, Rodney, despite being more experienced with the terrain, was just as willing to complain about the climb. Wouldn't it have been so much simpler to take the jumper up to the temple and avoid all the climbing? They weren't exploring the place, they actually had a clear idea of where they were heading.

"How much further, Major Lorne?" Catherine eventually asked, too tired to care about John's reaction.

"About another mile."

"And we didn't take a jumper up there because..." Rodney left the complaint unfinished.

"We didn't want to attract attention. From what we could ascertain, this area is uninhabited, but a jumper would have been visible from far enough away to attract the locals," Lorne explained patiently.

"Let me see if I get this straight. These ruins have stayed intact for the past ten thousand years and now that we dialled the address, everyone might jump on the chance to visit?" Catherine commented bitterly.

Teal'c stifled a laugh, to Sam's surprise.

"Isn't it how it usually works?" John joked.

"You tell me."

"Usually, it works like this: we dial an address, the planet has been peacefully left alone for centuries, if not millennia. Then, we find out there's an artefact we might be interested in and we discover everyone is suddenly interested in it themselves – crazy local cults, Wraith, Wraith worshippers, Geni, you name it. Soon enough, we're running for our lives and we don't even get to keep the artefact," John explained, annoyed at how true his little joke turned out to be.

"And let's not forget the crazy women that always turn out to have an interest in our John, here," Rodney completed the list.

The last comment struck a nerve with Catherine who couldn't help retorting "That's right, Colonel. How about you tell us more about your harem to make the climb more fun?"

Hearing Catherine's last remark, Vala let go of Daniel's hand to clap with pleasure. "Do tell, Colonel!"

John stopped in his tracks. It hit him that Catherine's comments were aimed with military precision. They really needed to have that talk and straighten her out, but it was impossible as long as she never stayed alone long enough for him to get a word in.

"You should start with Larrin," Rodney couldn't help it. "Or was it the other one, that Ascended woman, what was her name?"

"Thanks for your input, Rodney," John snapped. "Are we there yet?" he changed the subject.

Lorne simply smiled and climbed on, letting them bicker. When he had joined the army, he hadn't counted on babysitting to be among his duties.

John looked back at Rodney, only to catch one of Catherine's death glares. The subject looked far from closed.

o0o0o

At the edge of the wood, they were already met by a young officer baring bad news. Smith had triggered another defence mechanism trying to free himself and, despite their help, had caused a part of the ceiling to fall on top of him. Fortunately, no one else was trapped, but he was now crushed under a mound of rubble, stone and metal, squeezing the life out of him.

Catherine brushed her tiredness aside and ran to the temple, Coburn following close behind with her kit. They were, however, too late to do anything more for the young man other than ease his pain as he slipped out of consciousness for the last time.

The others found her still by his side, cradling his head.

"There is nothing I can do for him," she explained softly. "His sternum is crushed and it caused massive internal bleeding."

They sat in silence for a moment, aware of the weight of her words. Even Catherine, though she didn't look as stricken as she had at her first brush with death and her face shown little emotion past her disappointment at losing another life, was quieter than her usual self.

Lorne quickly organized his men and sent them to secure the gate. He didn't have the heart to keep them around to watch their friend die.

Shortly after, Smith gave his last breath, leaving Catherine without a pressing purpose there.

Looking around for someone to turn to, she found John looking at her with a worried expression. She would have preferred Rodney to be there for her, but he was already off, taking the energy reading of the area.

She gathered her courage and walked to John's side, hoping he was inclined to listen to her this time.

"I did what I could here," she said, apologetically. "If you could let someone walk me back to the gate, I'd be grateful."

She was pale and trying to hold herself together, not in the mood to offer John another spectacle of her breaking down. Her forced calm reminded him of Elizabeth when she was putting on a brave face, only Catherine seemed a bit better at it.

He actually looked worried and there was no trace of his usual sarcasm in his voice. "I can't spare anyone to go back with you. You can go back on your own and meet up with Lorne's men at the gate, or you can go on with us – we still need to explore this place and who knows what else we might run into."

She gave a thought to climbing back down the rocky terrain on her own – unless they really wanted to add another victim to the list, she honestly wonder how he could actually consider that a viable option.

"I'll stick around," she said, looking completely dejected.

Before John could tell her he was sorry, she had already turned around and went after Rodney.

John sighed and went off ahead.

o0o0o

The temple showed clear signs of Lantian architecture, but generations of worshipers had added to the initial structure two smaller towers, in different styles and in different states of degradation. Most of the construction was covered in vines and moss, with small hints of the white stone beneath. The windows had long been replaced by curtains of vines and the steps to the main entrance were worn by the feet of generations of visitors and by the elements.

Daniel was in Seventh Heaven. He had found some inscriptions to examine with no treasure in sight so he could actually get some work done without Vala peering over his shoulder all the time. He was thoroughly confused by the first version of his translation ( _Welcome be those burdened by their wives_ ) and he enjoyed every moment of it.

Ronon was the only one that looked the least bit impressed. "Why exactly did we come here?" he asked, giving the place a bored once-over.

"Charin said there are legends of a powerful weapon hidden in this temple. It is rumoured to have been entrusted to the monks by the Ancestors before they departed," Teyla explained patiently.

"At least they are enjoying themselves," he observed, talking about Rodney who was looking more and more excited with every new result of his scans on the one hand, and Daniel and Miranda who were staring at the inscriptions with frightening glee in their eyes on the other. "I'll never understand them," he said.

As if to confirm his claim, Rodney began jumping around, too happy by half.

"These readings are amazing! If I'm right – and I usually am – there might be a ZPM around here. Nothing else could emit such levels of energy. Not in this end of the Galaxy!"

"Do you think this might be what Charin was talking about?" John asked Teyla.

Teyla shook her head. "I can't be certain, but it might be the power source for the weapon."

"We'll find out when we find it," Sam said, suddenly very interested in Rodney's readings. She suggested a more in-depth scan and, soon enough, they had switched to such high levels of technobable that even Catherine decided it was easier to tune them out.

Still staring at the inscriptions, Daniel and Miranda's paths finally crossed.

"Are you sure that's supposed to read _wives_?" she asked, trying to make better sense of the inscription. "Wouldn't _lives_ work better?"

Daniel shook his head. "I'm pretty sure it's _wives_. Either that, or _bags_ , but that makes even less sense." He pointed out a complicated character. "This might be a typo. In which case it might be _hippos._ "

Miranda bit back a giggle. It felt nice being able to act normally around him again.

"You seem to be having fun," chimed Vala, clinging to Daniel's shoulder.

"Vala, I'm trying to work here. Don't you have anything else to do? Nothing shiny to get your attention yet?" Daniel complained.

"Actually, there is," she said, letting go of him and pointing to a character in the inscription. "Treasure!"

"You can read this?" he asked taken aback.

"Not really. I'm just very good at what interests me."

Miranda skipped ahead to get to the part Vala had pointed out "Something, something, _trial_ , something, something, _those worthy,_ something, _the heart of this temple, treasure,"_ she read.

" _...hidden in the heart... "_ read Daniel. He was pleasantly surprised with the girl's grasp of the language.

"What are we waiting for? We're here, treasure!" Vala cheered, pushing the two toward the entrance.

John spotted them heading into the temple and ran after them. "Where are you running to, kids?"

Daniel spared John a questioning look. Last he checked, he was five years older.

"You know what I mean," said John innocently. "Lorne, you say your guys managed to explore a bit of this place before..." he said, stepping before the three and blocking their advance.

"It should be OK as long as you don't touch anything," Lorne answered, catching up with John.

"You heard the man. You walk in after us and don't touch anything!" John warned, the last part being directed particularly at Vala who was known for her sticky fingers.

"Come on, guys!" he called to everyone else. "We're going exploring!"

"Do I have to come, too?" Catherine asked, not prey to the same spirit of adventure.

"Well, you can wait outside, but I think that's gonna be a bit boring. Beside, we still might need medical assistance."

For a second, she considered getting him in need of medical assistance, but she followed without another comment.

The main hall was impressive. Tall marble columns dotted the hall, while the walls were still covered in the tattered remains of a more recently added tapestry, depicting scenes of monastic life. From there, they wondered into a corridor, littered with the remains of statues and praying urns. There were various rooms merging out from this corridor, but they all shown signs of latter additions to the original architecture.

Except for Rodney, Miranda, Catherine, Daniel and Vala, everyone was on their guard. Catherine was keeping close to Rodney, though she could hardly keep up with his explanations of how the signal varied depending on what room they passed. Miranda was eagerly taking in every aspect of the temple, awed that it had remained so well preserved centuries after it had been deserted. Daniel was doing his best to tune out Vala's chatter so he could concentrate on the architecture and artefacts around them.

o0o0o

Rodney stopped dead in his tracks, nearly knocked over by Vala, whose attention was focused on Daniel rather than where she was going.

She smiled in apology and it left the scientist looking for his words for a second. This earned her one of Catherine's killer looks, but it went by unnoticed.

"The readings are getting higher this way," he said, pointing around to one of the branching chambers.

Miranda peered around to see what the excitement was about. Through the open archway, it looked small, maybe one of the monks' cells. Stepping through the archway, you were forced to change your perspective – the bit you saw through the passage was merely the antechamber to a much larger hall which seemed to continue parallel to the main corridor. It gave off the feeling of walking into a cathedral – tall, vaulted arches sustained the high roof but the sombre air of a cathedral was softened by numerous paintings that had been added later – some in a very good state of preservation. The hall was dominated by an altar placed half-way between its two ends.

They all walked in after Mida and Rodney, adjusting quickly to the shift in perspective.

"What have you found?" John asked, glancing over at McKay's scanner.

Taking advantage of the general interest being focused on the hall rather than on her person, Vala snuck by to get a closer look at the idol on the altar that had escaped everyone else's notice. It wasn't surprising; she did have her eye trained to notice things of value.

A few steps before reaching the altar, Vala stopped. She looked back to the end of the hall she had come from, then back toward the altar. It didn't look right. Not the altar, she could see that perfectly, as well as the little, golden statue on it. The rest of the hall, however, looked out of sync somehow. She looked at the walls and the columns and there it was, a little hiccup in their regularity. That made everything click into place.

"Daniel!" she cried turning back toward the others, waving him over. "You _have_ to see this!"

"What are you doing there?" John asked exasperate but, before he could go after her, Daniel and Miranda snuck around him, completely ignoring his instructions.

"Is it just me, or did that tea have lasting effects on some people?" he asked watching the younger archaeologist rushing after Daniel. "Guys, get back!"

He started after them, but Vala was already picking up the statue.

"Put it back!" Daniel cried, still too far to do anything about it.

Pouting, Vala placed it back. "I was just curious!"

At about the same moment, Rodney looked at his scanner in sudden alarm. "The energy readings just spiked-"

"Damn it!" cried John, hitting a force field that had suddenly materialized, cutting him away from the other three.

Daniel walked back to the force field and reached his hand to it. It got zapped.

"Didn't... back?" he turned with an accusing look to Vala.

She shrugged, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "I guess we're stuck here. We should make the best of it."

"Rodney!"

"I know, this is where someone gets stuck and I have to work out a way of getting them out. Give me a sec," he said, already looking for the source of the force field.

"I guess we should go look for another way in," John suggested.

"If you don't mind, I'll stay here with Rodney," Sam offered.

"You will?" asked Rodney almost ecstatic and without noticing Catherine's frown.

"Just don't get your hopes up about anything else."

Catherine, after a short moment's thought, walked over to John. "Looks like they won't need me here and who knows what you're going to get your selves in."

At this, Rodney looked a little off put, but he didn't comment.

"And I shall secure the entrance," offered Teal'c.

o0o0o

The rest of the team continued down the corridor, searching for another way into the hall, with little success. They walked in silence, without Vala's constant chatter and Rodney's lectures.

Aside from their echoing footsteps, the corridor was completely silent. Not even Catherine dared start a conversation.

The corridor seemed to go on without another branching forever. It did, however, turn suddenly into descending stairs.

Lorne shone his flash light down the stairs with no end in sight. John searched his pockets for something he could throw into the hole – he found a nickel. Hushing the others, he flipped the coin and threw it down the stairs. It rang against the stone steps, clattering on for about five seconds before settling on the unseen floor.

"I guess this needs looking into. Catherine, you come with me and Lorne. Coburn, you take Teyla and Ronon with you and keep searching for an alternate way in."

"Yes, sir!" Coburn answered a bit too solemnly.

John's eyes moved from the major to Catherine and then to the hole.

"Don't you dare say _Ladies first_!" Catherine warned him.

"I wasn't going to, until you mentioned it. I should be a little more chivalrous," John grinned and started to climb down the stairs, his P-90 in hand, before Catherine could protest again.

o0o0o

"I said I was sorry," Vala insisted.

"Do you _ever_ think before doing something?"

She wanted to say she did it to see if she'd get him to frown like that, but she didn't dare attract more of Daniel's annoyance after getting them stuck in that room.

From the other side of the force field, Sam was trying to sound encouraging. "Don't worry, Daniel. We'll get you out."

"As soon as we realize where the hell this sprung out from," Rodney muttered, examining the wall.

Trying to ignore the staring contest Dr. Jackson and Vala had started, Miranda had stumbled onto the same revelation as Vala. She walked around the altar for a better look and, indeed, the columns were no longer in perfect alignment. Though it still looked as three dimensional as it had from the other end of the hall, up close, you could tell, if you paid enough attention, that the other half was a very life-like painting. It was a feat that would have driven to tears the masters of the Baroque and it was surprisingly well preserved.

"Don't go too far," cried Rodney "If you trigger another of these fields we might never get to you."

In place of an answer, the young woman knocked on the fresco. "There's no where further to go."

Dropping his argument with Vala, Daniel took into account this new turn of events. As his eyes adjusted to the flatness of the surface, he was amazed he had missed it before. It must have been there for thousands of years, yet it looked as perfect and well preserved as if, not only had the monks refreshed it throughout their stay, but the practice had been kept up even after their departure.

It was stunning, but it helped them little in getting out of there.

o0o0o

John's flashlight swiped the chamber – it was another corridor, just as deserted as the ones above. The stones were much more worn and less decorated than the ones above ground. The beam of his flashlight caught a glimmer on the floor. It was his coin. He knelt to pick it up. It would have been a shame to lose it – it was the coin he had tossed when deciding if he should come to Atlantis. As he pocketed it, Lorne's flashlight shone on his face.

"Anything interesting?"

"There better be, this place creeps me out," Catherine said, coming down the stairs after the two men, holding on to the wall for fear she might trip.

"Well..." John said, swiping the corridor with the beam of his flashlight again "There seem to be a lot of rooms."

"Are you sure it's a good idea?" Catherine sounded suspicious.

"Do you have a better one?" John asked, shining his light into the first room – it wasn't larger than 12 square feet, bare of any decoration – a little more than an artificial stone cave.

"This was probably where the monks lived," said Lorne after studying another room, just as unimpressive as the first.

"With this new wealth of knowledge, can we go back up?" Catherine insisted, following close to John and trying to keep from grabbing his arm. She hated dark places, most of all if they were underground.

After inspecting a few more similar cells, they found themselves in a slightly more impressive room.

"This must have been where the big guy lived," commented John.

Lorne's beam fell onto a figure huddled on the floor. "Then that must be him, there," he added, walking toward the body.

With a surprising speed and lack of her previous hesitation, Catherine headed straight for the body, reaching it before Lorne could.

"Can you get me some more light, here?" she demanded, slightly annoyed.

Both men exchanged surprised looks and shone their lights over her and the dead monk.

The flesh had long gone from its bones and the garments were scorched. With a sure hand, Catherine lifted one of the bony arms for a closer examination and was rewarded with a cloud of dust lifting off the remains.

"He's been killed quite recently," she said, her mouth covered by her free hand against the dust.

John looked suspiciously out into the corridor behind him. "Define _recently."_

"I can't be sure, but it has to be about 50 or 60 years…" she answered.

John relaxed somewhat. "You call that _recent_?"

"The place was supposed to have been deserted for hundreds of years..." Lorne commented.

"I can venture a wild guess and suggest he was tortured, as well…" Catherine continued, letting go of the hand and causing a new cloud of dust to lift.

"What makes you think that?" John asked walking toward her, for a closer look.

"His hands and feet were burnt to the bone, but that's not what killed him," she explained.

"What was it, then?" John insisted.

"It might be a shot in the dark, but I'd take a chance and say it was that huge hole in his head that eventually did him in." She sounded like a teacher having to explain something painfully obvious to a class that never paid attention, a bit like McKay.

"If you're done playing CSI: Atlantis, we can go on looking for whatever it is we're supposed to find here… sir," Lorne interrupted.

John was just coming up with a sharp retort when the silence in the corridor was disturbed by new footfalls.

"I thought I told you to inspect the ground floor," John cried, thinking the others had decided to join them on the fun.

The answer came in the form of a projectile whistling past his ear and embedding itself in the wall.

o0o0o

Instinctively, John grabbed Catherine and pushed her into the wall, out of their aggressors' sights. With her out of the way, the two men opened defensive fire.

"We're peaceful explorers!" John cried, though he doubted the guys shooting back at them cared much about it.

They couldn't be entirely sure if they got any of them. The bastards were good – in the feeble light of their torches, they had almost shot Sheppard and, despite being out-armed, had not backed out of the crossfire.

Catherine pressed herself harder into the wall, hoping none of the projectiles would ricochet toward her.

"Why the hell am I here?" she whispered.

"What the hell are they firing with?" Lorne asked in a moment of respite.

"Looks like arrows," John answered, looking behind him at one that had embedded itself in the wall after nearly grazing his ear.

"You were talking about _crazed villagers?_ " Lorne asked.

"I wouldn't go that far," said John. "We're probably just in the _grave robbers and other old associates of Vala's_ phase."

Catherine unglued herself from the wall long enough to listen for any sign of activity in the corridor. "Doesn't matter what ingredient of the perfect off-world mission they are. They seem to have stopped firing."

"Could be reloading," suggested Lorne.

"Are you willing to talk now?" John called into the dark.

There was non answer. Not even another arrow shot in his general direction.

"Should we go out?" John suggested.

"Could be an ambush," Lorne argued.

"Or we could wait for them to finish us here," John countered.

"Point made." Lorne conceded.

"Catherine," John called "Get your gun ready. We don't know what might be waiting out there."

Catherine pulled out her pistol reluctantly, looking at it as if for the first time.

"You do know how to use that, right?"

"Of course I do!" she answered indignant, arming it.

"Good. Don't come out until one of us gives you the all clear," John instructed her.

She nodded and waited beside the door as John and Lorne walked out.

Except for the three fallen assailants, the corridor looked indeed empty. So did the cells next to the larger room they had just left.

"Looks clear," Lorne called.

Catherine, squeezing the gun to her chest, walked out, hurrying to catch up with them.

Then, she heard a noise behind her and slowly turned around. In the faint light reflecting off the walls, she could see one of the bodies staggering to its feet and preparing his weapon. In the moment of terror that followed, time froze. She pointed her gun at him unsteadily and found herself unable to pull the trigger even with the threat of getting shot burning in her mind. "John?" she managed to squeak.

Hearing his name, John swiped his flashlight over the attacker's face, instantly recognizing the danger. He pushed Catherine out of the way and fired in the man's direction. A second later he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder and dropped the P90.

o0o0o

Daniel was examining the statue, careful not to touch it. It represented what looked like and old monk, maybe even some sort of magician, with a medallion around his neck. It might have even been the pendant they were searching for.

Vala, as restless as ever, reached for the little statue, wanting to get a better look.

Her hand was caught by Daniel's.

"What did I tell you about touching things?" he warned.

"Don't?" she asked innocently. "But I only wanted to get a better look at it," she pleaded.

"Look at what happened the last time you touched it!" he said, pointing to the force field.

"Precisely. What else could happen?"

He gave her a warning look. It was a terrible habit of hers to tempt fate like that, but she did have a point. Still sceptical and a bit worried of the consequences, he grabbed the statue off the altar.

Nothing happened.

Vala smirked contently. "I told you so," she said, never above such childishness.

"When it said _those burdened by their wives_ , was it talking about the people coming to join the convent?" Miranda asked all of a sudden. She was sitting on the floor, leaning against the altar and listening to the two bickering. The thought of these two together was becoming more and more appealing to her and it amused her greatly how she was moving out of fangirl territory into shipper mode.

"If I have to spend any more time stuck with her in a confined space, I might end up considering very seriously the possibility of joining a convent!" Daniel threatened the still grinning Vala.

It seemed to work.

"You don't mean it," Vala pleaded before just as quickly reverting back to her normal mood. "Although, I've always had a thing for guys in monastic robes…"

"There's no shaking you, is there?"

o0o0o

After careful examination, the walls proved to posses no hidden panels or keys to the force field. It wasn't meant to keep things in, but to keep people out – the only way of lowering it seemed to be from the inside. Both Sam and Rodney agreed on this. What they couldn't agree on was what the energy readings had to do with it.

"The source has to be behind the shield," she insisted.

"Even if it was powering the field, I shouldn't be getting such strong readings off it. It has to be closer. Maybe it's in this very room," Rodney insisted.

"You're not going to suggest it might be in the walls! There's nowhere to hide it in here!"

"How many times haven't you seen it in movies? The character leans nonchalantly against a wall and it gives way to the entrance into a secret passage…" he said, leaning nonchalantly against the wall.

Nothing happened.

Sam watched him with a raised eyebrow.

"It was worth a try," he shrugged.

"This sort of things only work for Daniel," Sam joked.

o0o0o

It was hard to fight an opponent you couldn't see. However, by turning off the flashlights, they had discovered that it worked both ways. Lorne was left shooting blindly towards the general direction of their attackers, without any certainty of hitting anything. He could barely make out their silhouettes, but they had already proven to have better night vision and seemed familiar with the terrain.

Behind him, Catherine dropped her gun and hurried to John's side. She had seen him stagger, but couldn't be sure how badly he had been hit. She could barely make out his shape in the dark.

"Sorry I froze like that," she whispered.

"I thought you said you knew how to use that thing!" John hissed, leaning against the wall.

"On the firing range, yes," she pointed out. "I never had to use it on living targets before. I simply couldn't fire on a person."

"Great!" he hissed again. This time, she could tell it was from the pain. "Hey!" he cried, trying to make himself heard over the noise from Lorne's gun. "I said we're peaceful explorers!"

"Maybe they don't speak English," suggested Lorne after another bolt whizzed by his head.

"Nonsense, everyone speaks English in this galaxy!" muttered John.

"Are you OK back there?" Lorne asked in concern.

"Fine. Just taking five," joked the colonel, feeling for the bolt in his shoulder with his good hand.

Catherine didn't pretend to be fooled by his forced cheerfulness – it was her fault he got hit in the first place, she wasn't going to let him make it worse. She needed to get him out of there to somewhere she could take a look at his wound.

"Shouldn't we take cover in one of the cells?" she suggested. "I do need to check that out," she added, trying to work his healthy arm around her shoulder so she could support him. She hoped it would be safer to turn her flashlight on if they were out of firing range.

"I wasn't shot in the leg, I can walk on my own!" John protested, but didn't push Catherine away and let her guide him to the cell.

"Go already!" Lorne urged them, as glad as Catherine to have them out of harm's way.

Catherine's grip on the colonel, however, was not the steadiest. She was also a head shorter than him and not very focused on what she was doing with arrows and bullets ricocheting around. It only took one left foot placed too close to the right to get both of them crashing to the floor in a heap. This development lead Catherine to three revelations – that you should never back into a dark room out of a dark corridor with a heavy burden, that a stone floor was indeed as hard as it seemed and that John Sheppard was a lot heavier than he looked. She wondered if the impact had also shaken her brains out of order.

The sound of stunners fired in the dark took them by surprise and they turned their heads to find Ronon, Teyla and Coburn, flashlights in hand, climbing down the stairs.

"Are we interrupting something?" Ronon asked, shining his light on John and Catherine. The man was clumsily trying to get off of Catherine without making it look like what Ronon was already probably thinking about.

"Not much," John answered casually. Wincing, he offered Catherine his good hand.

Catherine, feeling every bit of the impact still reverberating through her, had problems focusing her sight. At the moment, she could make out the blurred outline of three John Sheppards and it was the most frightening thought to have ever crossed her mind. Not wanting to make a fuss, she took his hand, but tried standing up on her own.

"The doctor here was going to patch me up." John's smile faded into a wince as he pulled Catherine up.

"So you decided to squish her?" asked Teyla, trying not to look too worriedly at his shoulder. She helped the other woman walk to one of the cells where she could lay him down and gave her the medical kit. "You forgot this with Major Coburn," she said.

"Thanks." Catherine barely speared Teyla a glance before turning her attention back to John. "Now, Colonel, sit down so I can look at that arrow! And I'll ask you to hold the light here!" The last instruction was directed to Teyla, who did as she was told.

The bolt had pierced his shoulder and there was a considerable amount of blood, but it didn't hit any vitals and it had gone clean though the shoulder, without touching the bone. This was a good sign. She needed to get him to the surface before she could even consider pulling it out – truth was she was beginning to feel rather claustrophobic.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. And she did. If it hadn't been for her hesitation, he wouldn't have been wounded. "But you're lucky. It doesn't seem to have pierced the artery and it's gone clean through the shoulder, so it didn't hit bone – half an inch either way and we would have been in big trouble."

She tried to look less worried than she felt. Even if the wound was clean, she had no way of knowing if the arrow had been poisoned unless she did some tests in the lab or John started showing signs of… well, anything. Who could tell what dirty tricks grave diggers were up to around here?

"Come on, I'll help you up," Catherine offered.

Again, John wanted to protest. For God's sake, he _could_ walk and if anybody needed support, it was her – she still looked as if she was stuck in a spinning room. With his arm around her shoulders, however, he found it easier to steady her and, under the guise of being helped, he helped her out of the cell and toward the stairs.

Teyla watched them curiously. "Can I help?" she offered.

Catherine brushed her off. "I can handle it," she said abruptly, wondering why Sheppard was so light all of a sudden.

They were both as stubborn and they made an interesting spectacle to watch as they climbed the stairs – each trying to sustain the other's weight. Teyla raised an eyebrow, but she knew Sheppard too well to comment on it during a crisis. She filed it away as something she could tease him with after they got back.

"This one's dead, too," concluded Coburn after checking for a pulse on another of the fallen attackers. They were all dead, it seemed – some killed by the bullets from Lorne's P-90, a few by his and Teyla's guns and some zapped by Ronon.

One of the bodies, however, still had a pulse. The man stirred and saw his fallen companions. With surprising ease for someone that had been shot multiple times, he stood up, sweeping the dimly lit corridor with his mad gaze.

"You have no idea what you have done," he warned. "They are coming and you shall be the ones they come after!"

"Who's coming for us?" Lorne asked, his gun aimed at the mad man.

"You know them by now. The Wraith are coming to feed!" there was a sing-song quality to his words that made them sound even chillier.

Before anyone could reach him, he plunged a knife into his stomach. "They're almost here!" he grinned and, as he died, the grin turned into a ghastly grimace.

Throughout this, no one had dared move. It was as if a spell had been cast and it had only been broken with the man's death. Now that the world resumed its normal pace, they could see a metal band on the man's wrist and it was emitting some sort of signal. There was no need for someone to tell them what it was – the signal was going out to the Wraith and they were too late to stop it.

"Teal'c," called John, still frozen in place on the stairs. "We're expecting company."

o0o0o

"Daniel, there's nothing on our side. See if you can shut it down from your side," Sam suggested.

"We've looked – there's just the altar and the statue. They do nothing."

"I still say we haven't looked at all the options," insisted Rodney, scanning the walls and not intending to let Samantha have the last word.

Daniel looked again at the walls – they were beautifully ornate, but there was nothing akin to a switch of any kind or other sort of commands. Of course, after the revelation with the fake half of the hall, they had checked for other such illusions without success.

Vala, in turn, was playing with the statue. It was the only thing they had touched in the room, but she still couldn't get it to do anything regardless how many times she turned it, twisted it or pushed it in place.

"Samantha Carter, have you figured out a way of getting Daniel Jackson and the others out yet?" Teal'c's voice called through the radio.

She detached the radio from her belt and answered. "Not yet. Is anything wrong?" she asked worriedly. Teal'c wasn't very talkative and wouldn't have called unless it was important.

"We have reason to believe the Wraith are on their way here," he answered.

"What reason?" Rodney jumped.

"John Sheppard seems to have run into a Wraith worshiper."

"Where did he spring from?" Rodney said, rolling his eyes.

"He did not say."

"Very helpful," Rodney commented dryly.

"Never mind that," Sam brushed him aside. "I'm on my way, Teal'c," she said, hurrying out.

Rodney looked frantically after her. "What about them?" he asked, pointing at the force field.

"We can't get them out from this side," she insisted, "and they're probably safer behind the force field than outside."

"Right," said Rodney, suddenly finding the idea of being stuck behind a force field surprisingly attractive. "You heard what she said, it's safer in there…" he said, worrying his hands and hesitantly following Sam. "I should probably..." He was absently pointing at the door, but he would have rather been anywhere else.

"Sure, go..." said Daniel, just as absently. One of the paintings finally caught his attention.

It looked like a map – a map of the temple, in fact.

o0o0o

They had little time to spare. Before they could tackle the Wraith, John needed medical care which Catherine couldn't offer in the underground. Teyla quickly took them to a well lit room on the ground floor they had found during their inspection. There weren't any other intruders around but they couldn't relax before they found out where they had entered through. She left Catherine to tend to the wound, with Lorne and Ronon standing watch while she took Coburn on another quick inspection.

In the bare room, with unusual care, Catherine helped John sit down. She had a closer look at the wound, careful not to hurt him. She knew his life wasn't in danger and she had dealt with worse, but she couldn't shake the thought that she had gotten him in this state. She felt a strange mixture of guilt and shyness that made her act most unprofessionally.

"What's up with Dr. Spencer?" Ronon asked.

Lorne was just as baffled by the doctor's behaviour as he was. Her cold bedside manner was infamous around Atlantis and this was definitely not her usual style. His shrug told Ronon they were thinking about the same thing.

"Don't tell me McKay is right about the hair," Ronon asked, grinning at the sight of John's over-ruffled hair.

"Regardless what it might be, I can sure use it the next time I end up in her care."

What was most surprising, Catherine had ignored their comments completely, too preoccupied with John.

"Major Lorne, we have gate activity!"

The news from the gate fell heavy over the scene and prompted them back into the defensive stance they had intended.

Lorne grabbed his radio. “How many darts had crossed?”

There were a few, more than the handful of men he had sent to the gate could handle on their own. However, they had brought one down without raising the Wraith's attention – they seemed determined to reach the temple without messing about with distractions.

John pushed Catherine away and tried to sit up but was held back by a small but firm hand.

"You're not going anywhere!" she said in a voice that left no room for arguments.

He turned to her to protest, but saw in her eyes the same look Elizabeth gave him when she was determined to have her way. He knew there was no profit in contradicting her right then, so he sat back down, hoping he would be up to joining the others once she was through with him.

Lorne gave him a worried look. "Request permission to join Teal'c," he said.

John nodded. "Don't wait up for me," he said. He didn't like having to let others face the enemy on their own, but unless he could sneak past Catherine with a crossbow bolt in his shoulder and actually stand a chance, there was little he could do for them.

"I'm going, too," Ronon added.

John simply nodded, unsurprised.

Catherine left him leaning against the wall so she could get her medical kit from where Teyla had left it. Rummaging around for the essentials, she heard John behind her. "Is this gonna take long?" His attitude was predictable, but it didn't help her work faster.

"You're not dying, Colonel, but I doubt you'll be able to handle a P-90 with that shoulder today."

Almost instinctively, he grabbed his gun and tried to lift it – his shoulder exploded with pain and he dropped it back.

In a split second, Catherine was by his side again. "What the hell are you thinking? I just told you, you couldn't!" she snapped. She was furious and wasn't trying to hide it. Wasn't it enough she felt weighed down by her guilt that he had to make things worse? "You've made it perfectly clear that I'm useless on the field. At least let me do what I'm good at," she said a bit softer.

He looked up at her in surprise which suddenly turned to shock when the needle pierced his skin. He hadn't even noticed her lifting his sleeve.

The effect was almost instantaneous – the pain was gone and his head felt light. The whole world seemed a little brighter.

"What did you do?" he hissed.

"Just morphine," she answered with the most innocent smile on her lips. "Now you're going to let me work."

Carefully, she grabbed the bolt. He was lucky the head wasn't hooked and she didn't need to cut it before pulling it out. She pulled lightly on it, watching the expression on his face, looking for signs of pain.

"This might hurt a bit," she warned him.

"Just get it over with."

With a swift move, she yanked the bolt out, wincing as if it was coming out of her shoulder.

"A-au!" he said slowly. "I thought you said you gave me morphine!"

She was certain she had nearly given him too much so she raised an eyebrow while bagging the bolt for later analysis. "Are you kidding? I nearly knocked you unconscious!"

"I wouldn't have minded," he answered innocently.

She rolled her eyes and took out the bandages. Thinking about what she needed to do next, maybe it would have been better if she had.

"I'll have to bandage that, now." She was fidgeting with the bandages and avoiding to look at him. God, what she would have given for a nurse right about then.

"I sort of figured that," he said, confused by her behaviour.

"I can't do that with your shirt still on..."

"I figured that as well." His confusion was turning to amusement, but he wasn't going to help her. "I can't undress on my own," he added grinning. It might have been the morphine, but he found her adorable when she flushed like that – a mixture of anger and awkwardness.

She wanted to say something biting, something that would wipe that grin off his face, but he was right in a way. Grudgingly, she knelt beside him and helped him out of his jacket without great fuss. She could feel his gaze on her all the while.

It was a bit trickier getting him out of his shirt. She wished there were somebody else with them in the room to make her feel less... awkward. She looked at him in search of assistance, but he looked back at her in complete innocence. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing, but she still couldn't get herself to feel more comfortable circling her arms around him to grab the bottom of his shirt. Biting her lip, she leaned over him, trying to touch him as little as possible as she pulled his shirt out of his pants. She had nearly got the darn thing out when her fingertips brushed against his skin by accident and she froze. She could feel her cheeks burning and she knew they must have turned bright red.

What the hell was wrong with her? It wasn't as if she had never seen a shirtless man. True, she hadn't undressed the others, but what was so different?

She needed to get a grip on herself. She was a grown woman and this man needed her medical expertise. True, he was stepping on her nerves most of the time and he tended to drive her up the walls with his arrogance and cheep Casanova charm. He was bossy, annoying, and reckless and he kept playing the smart-ass role. He wasn't even in MENSA. Not that it really had any relevance to their current situation. There was also that annoying smile of his, which seemed to make her feet melt lately; the messy hair, the...

She needed to focus.

She nearly jumped when he grabbed her hand.

"What's wrong?" he asked her with a half smile.

Her heart skipped and she gulped. "Nothing," she answered hastily. "I was... worried the shirt might be stuck to the wound," she lied and looked away, unable to go ahead with what she was doing. Even the feeling of his hand on hers made her feel light-headed.

Slowly, he let go of her hand wanting to say something or at least touch her face, but he didn't dare move. Still, he couldn't help staring and, as his gaze wondered away from her face to her breasts, he could swear the room was getting warmer. He gulped and forced himself to hold her gaze, determined to keep his imagination within the grounds of decency. Even so, the atmosphere between them was charged with a near-palpable electricity and he could tell the feeling was mutual.

Staring at her own fingers, still clutching the hem of his shirt, Catherine found just how difficult it was to act professionally around a man whose sole purpose seemed to be making her job difficult, if not impossible. His gaze, caressing her body sent shivers down her thighs, making her heart pound in her temples. Still, she couldn't take offence at his attentions and found herself wondering what would happen if she lifted her face to him and…

"Are you sure you're OK?" he insisted. This time, he managed to actually sound concerned.

Blushing furiously, Catherine nodded and took a deep breath.

"Hold your arms up," she finally instructed him, sliding the shirt over his head with a hurried, mechanical movement, trying her best to avoid his gaze.

It didn't make things any easier. If anything, it was even worse now that she was faced with bare skin and, pulling her kit closer, she noticed her fingers were trembling. True, it was barely noticeable, but it was bad enough to a surgeon. She shut her eyes, taking in another deep breath and squeezing her fist tight a couple of times. She had to calm down.

When she turned to him again, she was visibly pale, but her face betrayed little else. She was determined to act like the professional she was, not like some scatter-brained nurse who didn't know better than to flirt with the patients. Almost instantly, the memory of a certain blonde drooling by the men's sickbeds brought her back on track, though she still felt the need for a cold shower. A _very_ cold shower.

With swift, efficient moves she dabbed a wad of sterile gauze in disinfectant and applied it to the wound. Gently, she cleaned away the blood, looking intently at the wound as if nothing but it existed. While she was doing this, she felt in charge of her thoughts again.

Making sure the wound was clean, she needed to stitch it and she managed to do it in no time. Relived, she dropped the needle in a small box and placed it in the kit – she'd dispose of it back on Atlantis – and moved on to the next stage, the one not normally part of her duties – dressing the wound.

As she was wrapping the last layer of bandage around his back, her face leaned in only a few inches from his and her hair brushed softly against his lips. Without taking his eyes off her tense face, he lifted his hand and tucked the strand of hair behind her ear.

This time, her reaction was abrupt. She jumped back, looking him in the eye, reproachfully. It only lasted a second, but in that second she looked so young, so vulnerable that he felt a slight tug of guilt at his heart as if he had been playing with her feelings. But he hadn't. He couldn't have.

"You're done," she hissed, standing up and handing him back his shirt.

"And don't say anything!" she stopped him before he knew he wanted to speak. She didn't want to hear anything he had to say for himself or about this. She started packing back everything into her kit, trying to ignore her pounding heart.

_Nothing happened. Really. Nothing._

o0o0o

The darts had reached the temple in no time. They whooshed above their heads, leaving behind dozens of Wraith.

Taking cover behind the entrance, Teal'c and Samantha opened fire, followed close behind by Lorne and Ronon. Behind them, Rodney looked on with horror at the approaching Wraith. No matter how many they took out, they kept coming.

The white beams of their stunners zapped through the air, hitting the walls, so close to Rodney's head he felt it might have been safer to outright join the fight.

He managed to fire two shots into the chest of the closest Wraith who didn't look the least bit impressed.

"Where's Catherine?" he shouted, hoping that Ronon had a satisfying answer.

"We left her with Sheppard," Lorne answered, taking out another incoming Wraith.

Come to think of it, John was nowhere in sight. It wasn't like him to hold back from a fight, least of all against the Wraith. Something was amiss and Rodney suddenly decided he needed to look into it.

"There's too many of them!" cried Sam.

"Then we should weed them out a little," Lorne said, throwing a grenade in their general direction.

The sound of the explosion hit their eardrums at the same time as the dust cloud it had created, partially covering the battlefield.

"Do you have more of those?" Sam asked, slightly impressed.

"Quite a few," he answered, pulling out another one and handing it to her. "Any bright ideas?"

"Might be." Sam weighed the grenade in her hand. "Pull back!" she instructed, a plan edging its way in her mind.

"What!" Ronon snapped. "What do we gain by letting them in?"

"Time," she said. "Come on, before the dust settles!"

He gave her a distrustful look, but followed nonetheless. Since he had joined this team, he had learnt that the people of Earth had a knack for crazy plans that usually worked.

o0o0o

"This way, Major!" Teyla called.

A little way ahead of them, was an opened door to the outside.

They had made their way into the secret passage through sheer luck – it was hidden from view behind a worn out tapestry, guarded by intricate columns. They had nearly missed it had Teyla not felt the current of air hit her skin through the fabric.

It was a tight passage, barely two feet across, and Coburn had to keep his head down so he wouldn't hit it against the ceiling. If this was where their attackers had come in through, they must have been very familiar with their surroundings.

Just as familiar seemed the Wraith that had materialized in the doorway.

They managed to shoot a couple before getting stunned themselves.

o0o0o

After her outburst, Catherine had remained silent, not even glancing over at John.

Not really sure of how he had offended her, John managed to put his shirt back on and stay quietly in his side of the room. They certainly needed to have a talk, but this was not the place, nor the time, nor was he lucid enough for it.

The sound of gun fire made its way to their ears, stirring up their restlessness.

Before he even heard the footsteps, John was reaching for his gun, wincing as he tried to raise it. His hand was unsteady and his efforts only managed to elicit the Wraith's attention to their whereabouts. A quick look at Catherine confirmed his fears – the woman was too immersed in her own thoughts to realize what was going on. Not that her shooting abilities counted for much in battle, as she had already proven, but he could at least give her the chance to save herself. "Catherine!" he called.

She turned around in time to see the Wraith in the doorway. She froze.

"We don't have time for this!" John cried, snapping her out of her daze "Shoot the damn thing!"

Shaking throughout, Catherine raised her gun and aimed it at the charging Wraith. She shut her eyes tight and pulled the trigger again and again until the entire cartridge was discharged in the thing’s chest.

The Wraith stopped growling. The bullets seemed to have done little else than enrage it.

John managed to prop his gun against the wall and aim it at the thing. "Run, Catherine!" he yelled before pressing the trigger.

His aim was off by a few inches, but it was enough to attract the Wraith's attention to him.

Catherine stared at the door, but didn't leave her spot. "I won't leave you behind!" she stated, pulling a penknife from her pocket.

"What are you gonna do with _that?_ " he asked, shocked both by her daring and her stupidity. Adjusting his aim a little, he let out another burst from his gun, with the same amount of success.

"Hey! I just fixed him!" she yelled at the Wraith, completely ignoring John. She was too scarred to stand, let alone know what exactly she was going to do once she got its attention, but she was damned if she was just going to run away from this.

The Wraith turned to face her, unperturbed by the aimless bullets or by her tiny knife and walked toward her, making her back up into the wall behind her.

"What do you intend to use _that_ for, little human?" the Wraith growled with what might pass for amusement at the sight of the weapon of choice. It raised its hand with obvious intent.

"Leave her alone!" John cried, shooting another round. This time, his aim had improved, but it was close enough to hit her as well, so he stopped. He struggled to his feet, but he was still drowsy from the morphine. He needed to remind Catherine to be less merciful after this.

Taking advantage of the distraction he provided, Catherine struck the Wraith with her knife, aiming for the throat.

With a snarl, the creature slammed her to the wall, pinning her by the throat and brushing off the knife sticking out of its chest-plate. His other hand raised, ready to strike. She shut her eyes.

The blow never came. Instead, the sound of another burst of bullets, this time coming from the doorway, hit her ears. With a last lurch, the Wraith dropped to the ground, pulling her down with it.

"What took you so long, Rodney?" she could hear John through her daze.

She couldn't see Rodney shaking in the doorway. He couldn't really believe he had been on time to save her.

His shaky hands untangled her from the Wraith's dead grasp and pulled her into an embrace. "You OK?" he asked in an equally shaky voice.

She nodded. It hurt to do it, her head still reverberating after the impact, but she never felt so happy to be alive.

o0o0o

After the dust settled, the Wraith discovered their enemies had fled. Without a second thought, they charged the temple, looking for clues as to where their pray might be hiding.

Samantha's synthesized voice could be heard clearly over the radio in the dead silence that followed in the Wraith's wake. Growling, the Wraith headed for the source of the sound, through the corridor leading away from the main hall.

They had tracked it to a small room where all they could find was a radio, left on the floor. Looking to the side, they noticed three humans, backing away in horror.

Shaking its head, one of the creatures threw away the radio and charged toward the three humans, followed closely by its cohorts. As they charged, the humans retreated. The look of sheer horror on their faces was a delight.

Suddenly, their advance was blocked by an invisible barrier.

Unnoticed, the grenade snaked its way between their feet.

The first Wraith barely had time to see the look on the male's face turn from terror to wicked glee before hell broke loose. The explosion shook the hall, reverberating against the columns.

What was left of the Wraith were picked off by rapid blasts of bullets or zapped with laser.

Soon after, all that was left were the fuming bodies of dead Wraith crowded on the floor in front of the barrier.

o0o0o

They had seen Wraith before – in the descriptions attached to mission reports and on the Ancient terminals in Atlantis. They didn't consider themselves completely unprepared when the hoard barged into the antechamber. They thought. But seeing them in person was far more chilling than they could have expected – they were taller, darker and wilder than they could have possibly imagined. Even through the barrier, they could feel the full force of the terror they inspired.

They didn't need encouragement to step back in horror while the creatures charged. All three of them were seized by the fear that the force field would give out right when they needed it most.

Then there was the shock of the explosion and the flurry of bullets.

Confused and unsteady, Daniel took a few unsure steps back and hit the wall behind him.

And found himself on the floor.

Part of the wall had given way and he had stumbled into a chamber that looked like the mirror image of the hall he had been in.

Picking himself off of the floor, he walked back, careful that the door wouldn't close behind him.

The dust of the battle was settling and he could see Sam and the others walking in, checking the bodies for life signs.

"You could have warned us!" he yelled.

"We wouldn't have got the same, genuine feeling of fear had we told you we were waiting in the wings," she said, smiling.

"With explosives?" he asked. "What if the force field couldn't take it?"

"We would have all probably been Wraith bait," said Ronon, finishing his rounds.

"I think that's all of them," said Sam, looking worriedly around. "Where's Rodney?"

"He was going after Dr. Spencer and John," Lorne answered.

She breathed a sigh of relief before sending Ronon after them.

o0o0o

Taking advantage of the confusion, Vala decided she might take a closer look at whatever it was Daniel had stumbled upon this time. Before she could make it through the doorway, Miranda had grabbed her by the wrist, holding her back.

"Not this time," the younger woman warned, tired of all the excitement of the day.

Daniel caught sight of them in time to stop either of them walking in – he was inclined to suspect Vala of such intentions, but couldn't yet exclude Miranda from the equation entirely.

"Get back," he warned both of them.

Running his flashlight across the room, he confirmed his initial impression – it was the mirror image of this one, down to the same altar. Unlike the one they were in, this mirror room looked deserted, so he put away his gun and walked in.

Despite his warnings, Miranda and Vala followed behind him, curious what it might hold.

Up close, the altar turned out to be a console with a ZPM encased at its heart.

"It did say treasure..." said Vala, her eyes gleaming at the sight.

"I don't really think this is what they had in mind," Daniel commented, looking closely at the controls. "Though... it _is_ a nice find."

"You think we can turn off the force field from here?" Miranda asked, trying to make sense of the symbols on the console.

"Might be."

o0o0o

No matter how hard he tried, the signs made no sense. Aside from a few he recognized, some had worn down with time, while others were completely new to him. They might have been technical terms, but he couldn't really be sure. To figure them out, he would have needed more time and a lot more quiet than he had at hand.

"I have complete faith in your ability to figure out what it does," Vala encouraged him. She had seated herself on the edge of the console and was playing with the zipper of her jacket, revealing a little bit too much. Someone should remind her not to forget her shirt in the future.

Daniel swallowed the painful knot in his throat and frowned furiously at her. He was starting to understand those monks. "Will you please get off before you start anything else?" he asked icily.

Vala looked down at where she was seating. "But there were no buttons or anything," she said innocently.

"Just don’t!" he insisted.

Rolling her eyes, she complied. "Alright! Alright!"

"And stop doing that," he said, his eyes still fixed on her chest.

"Doing what?" she asked – the perfect image of innocence.

"That!" he said, mimicking her constant zipping and unzipping.

With a delighted grin, she zipped up her jacket. "Was it working?"

She had conceded they made a cute couple, but it was really starting to feel like she wasn't welcome anymore. Rolling her eyes at the scene the two were providing, Miranda left the chamber. "I'll leave you two alone," she grumbled.

Daniel was about to comment, but was interrupted by Sam's voice in his radio.

"Have you found anything?" she asked. Daniel could feel the curiosity in her voice and he could bet she would have preferred being on their side of the force field.

"Oh... just a ZPM..." he couldn't help teasing.

In the silence that followed, he could almost picture Sam drooling.

"Only thing is, I'm not sure how to get it out of here. There's a console, but I don't understand the controls," he explained.

Before she could answer, Daniel was distracted by Vala's fussing over the controls. She had spotted the only symbol she could recognize and pushed the button before he could stop her. Again.

A wave of energy burst out of the console, leaving Vala stunned and confused for a second. "What just happened?" she asked, snapping back.

Instead of an answer, she saw Daniel crash to the ground, unconscious.

o0o0o

The sight before his eyes was new and confusing. He found himself looking out at a strange new planet from the deck of an unfamiliar ship. The crew was busy at their stations, but he soon recognized some. Cameron was at the command and he joined him.

"Where are we?" he asked, unsure of what exactly was going on.

"What do you mean? We're on our way to the Ori home world. You found the weapon in Pegasus. We're about to use it to rid the Universe of their threat," he explained cheerfully.

Daniel frowned, trying to remember what had happened after he had left Atlantis, but he couldn't even remember that. His last memory was of a Wraith infested temple and explosions. A thought suddenly crossed his mind. "Where's Vala?"

Cameron gave him a long look, the kind he had grown used to after Sha're's death – a mix of pity and remorse. "She was killed in our last confrontation. If it weren't for her, we would have never have reached this place."

He tried not to look affected by the news – after all, he was supposed to have already known this. It didn't quite feel right, but he had time to think about that later.

Right now, he could make sure her sacrifice wasn't in vain.

"Prepare for detonation," Cameron ordered.

"Wait!" Daniel stopped him. "What is it supposed to do?" he asked referring to the strange looking device mounted in the control room.

"It should wipe out the ascended beings, which you already knew. For God's sake Daniel, you translated the instructions!" Cameron shouted, losing his patience.

"I did?" Daniel said, turning to the device again. It definitely didn't look familiar. He could, however, remember seeing the red stone before – it was the same one from Merlin's pendant. "And what did I mean by _should_?"

"We can't be sure it won't affect other life forms. But we're safe, it's directed at the planet and we're almost certain the effects won't reach other inhabited worlds."

"The weapon is fully charged, sir," someone announced.

"You're not sure. And there's more than the Ori living on this planet?" Daniel said horrified, heading back to Cameron's side.

"We can talk about this later. We can't save everyone and if we don't fire now, we won't get another chance before they detect our presence and start shooting at _us,_ " Cameron explained at wit's end.

"How many unsavable someones are we talking here?" Daniel insisted, looking back at the planet.

Someone placed a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to find Samantha shaking her head sorrowfully. "About ten thousand," she said. "I'm sorry, Daniel, but it's either them or the rest of the inhabited Universe."

"There must be another way!"

"Sir, they have us in sight!" someone warned.

"I'm sorry, Daniel," said Cameron.

Before the weapon could be fired, Daniel pushed Sam aside and grabbed the red stone mounted at the top of the device, rendering it useless.

The confusion that followed was quickly quieted by an energy blast hitting their ship. With considerable force, Daniel was thrown back into the wall, rendering him unconscious.

o0o0o

"Daniel, are you alright?" he could hear Vala calling him through the haze of unconsciousness. He wanted to answer and tell her she was dead but his mouth refused to work. His head throbbed in pain, still experiencing the effects of impact.

With superhuman effort, he managed to open his eyes and was greeted with the sight of a very concerned looking Vala looming over him. A smile of relief bloomed on her face. "You're conscious!" she squeed, grabbing him and hugging him to her chest and kissing him.

"A-au!" he protested in pain, too confused by recent events to even try to make sense of them.

Realizing she was hurting him, Vala released him from her embrace and laid his head back in her lap. "Sorry..."

"What happened?" he asked, rubbing the sore spot on the back of his head.

"You blacked out. The console emitted this energy beam, it left me stunned for a second and left you unconscious. You gave me quite a scare," she said, still a lot more serious than her normal self.

Daniel sighed in relief. It had been an illusion – he didn't endanger the lives of his friends and they hadn't risked the lives of innocents and Vala was still there to torture him with her affection. Oddly enough, he was most glad of the last one, but he would be damned before admitting it aloud.

A white beam brushed the air in front of their eyes.

"Don't look at me," Vala defended herself, arms raised. "I didn't touch anything... recently."

The beam materialized into a translucent human shape. The hologram looked like an old monk, bearded and robed in long, grey habits. His face was softened by an amiable smile and there was a twinkle in his eye that made him look alive.

"You have proven worthy. The treasure you shall be entrusted with is a most dangerous weapon, but you are wise enough to handle it. I do not need to tell you of the responsibility such power demands," the hologram explained. "Use it well and good luck in your quest."

Instead of vanishing into thin air, as these things usually did, the hologram lingered a while and added "And should your burden ever prove too heavy, you will always find sanctuary here." His gaze wondered over to Vala before finally vanishing.

"Did he wink?" Vala asked taken aback. "And why did he call _me_ a burden?"

"He wasn't talking about you, he was talking about responsibilities," he said absently. But he did see the wink and he remembered the inscription.

He jumped to his feet, regretting it instantly.

"Is everything alright?" Sam called through the radio.

"We just met an Ancient that's fond of shipping, but we're fine otherwise," he said, wincing in pain.

"An Ancient?" asked Sam in surprise. "You can't be serious."

"Shipping?" Vala sounded rather pleased by the prospect.

Daniel gave Vala a warning look. "He was pretending to be a hologram, but he was pretty much alive."

"That's great, he can tell you more about the weapon," Sam said, excited.

"He could if he had stuck around long enough. He's vanished."

From beyond the doorway, Miranda called after them. "Dr. Jackson, you have to see this!"

The altar had opened on one side, letting a stone drawer slide out. Inside, there was a magnificent red stone, too large to be a ruby. Daniel recognized it instantly as the one he had pulled out of the device, the one Merlin had worn around his neck. They had actually found it.

However, he didn't take as much pleasure in the thought, constantly plagued by the images from earlier. Was that what the stone really did? He could only hope what he had seen was not a glimpse of the future and that they would never be forced to make such decisions for the sake of the Universe – the responsibility would be too great.

"Sam, I think we found it," he called, picking up the stone up before Vala could.

The force field retreated in the sound of pouring sand, leaving the three exposed to the petulant smell of burning Wraith bodies and gun powder.

o0o0o

The return to the gate proved to be as difficult as the climb. Ronon and Lorne were carrying on an impressive stretch of carved marble – it had taken them nearly an hour to dig it out of the wall. They had no clue why it required so much effort when they had enough equipment to record the inscriptions photographically, but it must have held _some_ particular importance from what they could see of Daniel and Miranda's insistence that they take it out and carry it back to the Gate.

At least, their toil gave John time to recover enough to walk back on his own. Regardless, Catherine was still fussing around him, making sure the wound didn't reopen. Rodney was busy with the ZPM and was being surprisingly quiet – probably because Sam had been right again and hadn't forgiven her for it. Daniel and Miranda were too busy examining the gem, discussing its authenticity, to pay real attention to the terrain, leaving it up to Coburn to watch over them – he had enough experience babysitting Dr. Jackson to handle a double ration of his absentmindedness. Deprived of other entertainment, Vala was pestering Teal'c and Teyla, trying to elicit _some_ sort of response out of them.

They nearly reached the gate when Teyla noticed something was odd in the way the men were waiting for them, aligned in an orderly fashion, without any of their weapons or equipment in sight. "Colonel," she warned, but John was still too confused to register the significance of the scene immediately. He took a few more steps forward before being pulled back by Catherine. The others stopped in their tracks as well.

From behind the bushes, they could see the metal gleam of crossbow bolts being aimed at them.

Coburn instinctively reached for his weapon, as did Sam and Teal'c, but a voice from the sideline stopped them before they could take aim. "Lower your weapons. You don't want to get killed."

The speaker was nowhere in sight, but the voice had something annoyingly familiar to it. They could, however, see the dozens of men surrounding them, guns or crossbows aimed and ready.

Ronon swore to himself, and put down the slab of stone.

"Put your guns down, guys," John instructed his men. Even through the thick haze his head was still swimming in, he could nearly pin the voice to a face.

Reluctantly, they listened to him and slowly put down their weapons. Even Ronon changed his mind about firing and lowered his hand.

"That's better," said the annoying voice, its owner finally stepping out from among the trees.

"Kolya," John growled. "Didn't I say I'll kill you next time?"

"Nice to see you too, Colonel," the Geni greeted. "I see my men have evened the score," he said, pointing his gun at John's wounded shoulder.

"You seem to have a thing for getting the locals to join in on the fun."

"You can't really blame me, this time. The villagers called for our help when strange people started hanging around their temple at night." He smiled, oozing with charm. "We're simply doing our neighbourly duty."

"And do you often ask the Wraith for help with your charities?"

The Geni looked genuinely confused. "What do you mean?"

"It was one of your men who alerted the Wraith of our presence."

Kolya quickly inspected his men. "I only want the best for my people, despite what you might think of me."

"Cut the crap. What do you want?" John snapped.

"The same as you do."

"You're becoming predictable," John remarked, hoping Rodney had had time to hide to ZPM. He had less hope for the stone. "We didn't find the ZPM," he ventured.

Kolya displayed a look of mock surprise. "Who said anything about a ZPM? I'm talking about the stone. Hand it over, if you please. And if you don't, hand it over anyway." His gun was aimed at the most helpless looking member of the expedition – Catherine.

"Who the hell is this guy?" Catherine asked, intently not looking at Kolya.

"Just a constant pain in our asses," John introduced him.

"How amusing. Now, hand over the stone, or she dies."

After coming face to face with death twice in less than a day, Catherine was decidedly unimpressed by the threat. It almost didn't even register as such.

Surprisingly, Ronon took a step forward. "You want the stone? Here, take it," he offered, gesturing to the large piece of marble they had lugged all the way down hill. "I honestly have no idea why they made us carry the thing all the way here."

Kolya looked sceptically at the monolith. "Is this it?" he asked the villagers.

In turn, they looked just as sceptically at the carved stone. "Our legends talk of a fiery red gem, not about a part of the temple. If this writing holds any significance to these strangers, it comes from their own curiosity – the writing has been lost to us for generations, but I doubt it is what you are looking for."

"Quit screwing around and hand over the stone. The _proper_ one, Sheppard," Kolya hissed.

John, obviously, was trying his best to buy some time. "It's of no use to you. The stone only works on ascended beings," he explained. "The Wraith haven't achieved this yet, last time I checked."

"I'd rather have one of my scientists tell me that," Kolya said amiably. "What will it be? The girl or the stone?"

John tried to shield Catherine behind him as much as he could without attracting the shooters' attention or hers – she had proven to be quite unpredictable herself. Plus, he had the distinct impression she was rummaging through her pockets and he hoped it wasn't the pocketknife. He made a mental note to take it off her before the next mission.

"Look, we don't want trouble," Daniel intervened, making his way to the front, all eyes on him.

"What are you doing?" Catherine asked. "You can't weigh Earth's chances with the Ori against my life!"

Daniel looked at her with a faint smile. "We wouldn't be any better than them if we did that," he explained. "Here, take it and leave us alone," he said, giving the stone to the Geni commander.

Kolya weighed the stone in his hand and looked through it into the sun. He seemed pleased. "A very intelligent move."

"Now he's gonna kill us anyway," snarked John. "What's taking you so long?" he asked.

"You see, Colonel, you tend to prove useful every now and then. The Geni would have a lot more work to do, finding these objects, if it wasn't for you and your team."

John winced at the thought.

"I hope you won't mind if we see you out the gate. It's the least we can do for you after finding this lovely piece for us," Kolya said smiling. "But do not expect us to be as lenient the next time."

"Pray there won't be a _next time,_ " John warned.

"It's your turn to be predictable, Colonel. Why would I want to avoid such a fruitful reunion?"

"I was just saying..." John shrugged. But his rueful smile hid the threat that was lingering between them.

"I advise you to leave before I change my mind. You can leave your weapons here; my men tend to be a bit jumpy around armed individuals."

o0o0o

"You both seem fine to me," said Dr. Meyer, looking over the results of Daniel and Vala's tests. "You have a mild concussion, Dr. Jackson, but I wouldn't worry about that. There are no complications. I'm not entirely sure what that beam did to you, but it hasn't left any after effects," she assured them.

Daniel nodded. "Thank you, Dr. Meyer."

He stood up, waiting for Vala to follow, but she seemed lost in thought.

"How was it, again?" she asked.

"What?" he looked, the grin on her face causing new concerns.

"Colonel Sheppard's list. There was grave robbers, Wraith worshipers – I think that Kolya guy was surprised by that one – Wraith, crazy villagers, Geni, a secret passage..." she counted on her fingers.

It earned her a smile from Daniel. "The only thing missing was the fan girls," he laughed.

Vala looked across the infirmary to where John was being attended to by Catherine. The doctor had insisted on personally dressing his wound again and had gone through his tests with more than her characteristic diligence. "I wouldn't say that..." she said, raising an amused eyebrow.

"Come on, you can't possibly be saying that-" but his words were cut short when he noticed the way Catherine was looking at the Colonel. It was a look he had given up hope of ever seeing in her eyes.

"We should get going," he said, not giving Vala the chance to turn it all into a joke.

o0o0o

A few hours later, they had all gathered in the briefing room. Rodney was the only one missing, busy running tests on the newly acquired ZPM. They had updated Elizabeth on the events up to their encounter with Kolya.

John's arm was in a sling, despite his insistence that there was no difference whatsoever if he held it like this or had it free since the wound was too high up on his body to make a difference. Catherine had been insistent enough to make him give up eventually and accept her ministrations. He had just reached the part in their exchange with Kolya when they were asked to hand over the artefact.

"Of course, I thought he meant the ZPM and I could only hope McKay had had the sense to hide it and hide it well," he said.

"He was surprisingly calm about it. He didn't even blink when Kolya asked for the treasure," Ronon commented with a chuckle.

John looked around for the scientist, worried the praise might go to his head. "Where is he?"

"He's busy with the ZPM. He's very proud of the find," Elizabeth explained.

"However, we did lose the artefact," John concluded and they all turned to look at Daniel who couldn't stop giggling. "What's so amusing?" he asked him with a frown.

"About that... I'm sorry, it will probably prove valuable to the Geni, but not the way they might expect it to," Daniel apologized, looking over at Miranda with a grin.

The young woman nodded. "It did strike us as odd from the very beginning, but it took us a while to figure out why," she explained.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, waiting for a better explanation.

"It wasn't the real thing," Daniel said. "It looked like it, but what the Geni got out of this deal is a very large, valuable ruby that will help them increase their funds. I'm sorry about that."

Vala nearly choked in surprise. "You just handed over the treasure like that?"

"The thing is," he went on, ignoring her outburst, "the pendant wasn't supposed to be ruby. I think we're safe to presume the real pendant has been moved away long ago."

"However," Miranda chipped in proudly, "Dr. Jackson and I have already made great progress on deciphering the inscription we brought back from the temple."

Ronon and Lorne groaned hearing about the monolith again. Neither of them expected to feel their arms again any time soon.

"We've managed to add quite a few new words to the Lantian dictionary!" Daniel explained with great pride.

"Any clue as to where the real pendant might be?" Elizabeth inquired.

"No… Not really… mostly a lot of stuff about the burden of marriage…" he hesitated. "However, the cultural value is immense! We might learn _so much_ about wedding ceremonies in the time of the Ancients!"

"Fascinating," Ronon growled. "We stretched our arms out of their sockets so you could find out what an Ancient wedding was like! Why didn't Kolya fall for it and take the damn thing with him when he had the chance?"

Daniel was about to protest when Elizabeth cut in to re-establish peace. She shrugged. "At least you got a ZPM out of this and you can power the chair in Antarctica."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," McKay said, walking in. "The ZPM is nearly depleted. It had been powering the temple for ages, the force field was a big drain on it and having to absorb the blast of the explosion was the last straw. You might get about 5% out of it, which is something but not nearly enough for a serious use of that chair."

"What did I tell you?" John said turning to Catherine who looked as if she had just swallowed a lemon whole. All that effort, for naught.

Elizabeth's disappointment showed on her face and was reflected on all those present.

"It's not exactly good news," she said, "but we have to take what we're offered, I guess. I expect your reports on the mission as soon as possible," she added.

"Unfortunately, we've been away from Earth for long enough. We were scheduled to return tomorrow morning, but we'll send the reports with the first occasion," Sam explained.

"Thank you, everyone," Elizabeth said, letting them know the meeting was over.

o0o0o

Daniel was almost done packing – there wasn't much to pack after all – some Ancient tablets he needed to examine once he returned, a few clothes and several books he hadn't got to read. On the bed, he had left a small box which he was going to deal with later – when there was a knock on the door. Grateful it wasn't Vala, which wouldn't have bothered to wait politely for him to open, he headed to the door and waved his hand before the panel.

It was Catherine.

A bit surprised, he stepped back so she could come in. He had been under the impression she was avoiding him for reasons apparent to her alone. It looked like he had been wrong.

"Hi," he said, still hesitating.

"I heard you were leaving tomorrow," she said with a trace of regret. She looked around the room and her eyes landed on his bags. "I'm sorry I didn't get to talk to you properly."

Daniel shut the door behind her then turned to face her. "It's alright. It's been pretty chaotic around here."

She looked flustered and had difficulty finding her words. He waited for her to find her own pace.

"I've missed you," she eventually said. "I've missed having someone to talk to, someone who listened."

"I've missed you, too," he finally said, pulling her into a hug.

"I feel so alone here," she whispered, her voice muffled in his shoulder. "I'm this close to running home with you."

If they had had more time, he might have got her to open up to him like in the old days. Something must have happened since they last met to make her so willing to run away. If she had wanted to talk about it, she would have brought it up by then. "You're not doing that bad for yourself here," he encouraged her.

She didn't reply, but held on tighter to him. He could tell she was hurting, but nothing he had seen so far pointed to a possible cause.

Daniel chuckled, trying to distract her. "I hear you've been going out with Dr. McKay..." He wasn't a great fan of Rodney's, but considering their social skills, the two made an interesting match. Beside, the guy seemed harmless enough as long as you ignored his ego – something Catherine herself had enough of, if he remembered correctly.

"I would, if we didn't get interrupted all the time," she protested.

"Elizabeth seems to like you," he continued.

"Yeah, she's OK..."

"Ronon has way better humour than Teal'c. OK, I wouldn't exactly call it _humour_ , but..."

She giggled. "Teyla isn't bad, either. I just can't get myself to like her."

"And John seems to care very much about his team," he said, watching carefully for her reaction.

She expected him to bring John up, since he was listing off every member of the team. However, she avoided to look at him when she answered. "Probably, but we don't seem to get along." There was too much indifference in her voice to sound believable. Maybe Vala was actually right.

"Come on, he's a nice guy," Daniel insisted, but she pulled away.

"So, you were going to leave without saying good bye?" she asked, changing the subject.

There was definitely something, but he knew her well enough to realize that was all he was going to get from her.

"Not really. I was on my way to see you, actually," he said, picking up the box on the bed and offering it to her. "I was coming to give you this."

She took the box and opened it quickly, too curious to wait until she got back to her room. It was an mp3 player, tiny and red.

"I remember you used to listen to a lot of music and I figured you could do with one of these. I hope I got the playlist right," he told her smiling.

She jumped and hugged him again. "Thank you!" she said, kissing him on the cheek. "I'm sure it's OK!"

He hugged her back.

"Take care of yourself," he told her. "And let's hope it won't take us another year before we see each other."

She laughed. "Sure, being two galaxies away makes social visits so much easier!" Her attempt at sarcasm fell flat under the weight of her sadness, however.

"At least I'll know where to find you, now."

She gave him a long look, feeling guilty for the distance that had grown between them. "Well, if the IOA will ever reach a decision about who to send over in my place, I might consider joining the SGC."

"I'd like to see that happen," he said, aware that she had declined the position before and that she would be much happier working in a lab.

"This time, I'm serious."

"And I believe you."

With another hug, they said their good byes.

When the door closed back between them, they were both aware of all the things left unsaid.

He wasn't surprised that she never came to see them off to the gate.

 

 


	7. Episode 7: The Switch

**Episode 7: The Switch**

 

It had been nearly a week since she had last taken an off world mission and not a day had passed without Catherine using every spare minute trying to work on her physical weaknesses. With the same stubborn determination she invested into everything she set her mind to, she didn't spare herself any effort. She had started jogging around the City twice a day until she was breathless; in the afternoons, she had convinced Lorne to give her firing lessons, followed by Teyla kicking her ass in the evenings.

The mp3 player Daniel had got her proved to be a great help. It kept her mind busy while she jogged, preventing it from drifting onto dangerous subjects.

This wasn't her usual time for jogging, but she had decided to use whatever time available to her for training, so she was running to the training room where Teyla was probably already waiting for her.

She had never been a fan of sport of any kind, let alone practice any kind of physical activity. She had spent her childhood and teenage years training her mind. She still considered this to be her priority and would never skip on a MENSA meeting for anything in the world, but her new surroundings demanded she be able to fend for herself.

Her off world missions so far have proved real disasters on her part – she had found herself in constant danger and had endangered others on both occasions. She refused to be the damsel in distress every time.

She had taken it upon herself to treat John's wound personally as a reminder of what happens if she has to rely on someone else's help every time her presence is needed on a mission. It was her penance. His constant teasing reminded her why she never wanted him in the infirmary in the first place.

Her mind wondered to their fight that very morning. She wasn't entirely sure what it had been about, but she was almost certain he had started it. He always did.

Still trying to remember, her brain suddenly became aware of what Michael Bolton was singing about -

_How can we be lovers if we can't be friends_

_How can we start over when the fighting never ends_

_Baby, how can we make love if we can't make amends_

_Tell me how can we be lovers if we can't be, can't be friends_

"What the-?" she thought as the second chorus finally sank into her mind. She didn't need to listen to this. Not now. Not that it had anything to do with anything, but...

_We lie awake, this wall between us_

_We're just not talking, we got so much to say_

_Let's break these chains [...]_

Before the line could finish, she stopped running and changed the song. Not that she had anything against Michael Bolton, but it just seemed wrong. She listened to the first few lyrics of the next song.

_It was a rainy night when he came into sight_

_Standing by the road_

_no umbrella_

_no coat_

It sounded somewhat familiar, but it was safe enough, so she resumed her run. Soon enough, the chorus hit again.

_All I wanna do is make love to you_

_Say you will_

_You want me too_

_All I wanna do is make love to you_

"No I don't!" she snapped. Thankfully, there was no one around.

She decided to give the little device one more chance to redeem itself. With a deep breath, she pressed forward.

_The world was on fire, no-one could save me but you_

_It's strange what desire will make foolish people do_

_I'd never dreamed that I'd need somebody like you_

_And I'd never dreamed that I'd need somebody like you_

_No I don't wanna fall in love_

"Of course I don't!" she said, turning the player off and stuffing it in her pocket furiously.

"Who the hell would even consider I could fall in love with-" it was bad enough it wasn't Rodney she was about to put in that sentence. If she wanted to use the damned thing again, she needed to refresh the playlist once she got back to her room. Whatever possessed Daniel to fill it with music she used to listen to when she was a teenager?

To chase away the uncomfortable thoughts that were assaulting her, Catherine tried focusing on an Anatomy course she had taken back in high school, long before she had known much about the human body. It had been the most boring hour of her life, but it was the reason she was of use to anyone now.

Fortunately, she was just around the corner from the training room and she didn't need to subject herself to more torture than she already had. She suspected she had managed to kill off a few good neurons just getting there.

As she had expected, Teyla was already there, waiting for her.

The woman welcomed her with an Athosian greeting that Catherine had learnt to answer.

"You are late."

Catherine bit back a comment about having other things to do, but remembered the Athosian was there to help her, having her own duties on the base. "I had some... technical difficulties" she explained, deciding never to think of the playlist incident ever again. She dropped her bag on the floor and picked up two sticks she was determined to eventually learn the proper term for.

With the sticks in hand, she walked to the centre of the room where she took the fighting stance Teyla had spent the past four sessions teaching her. By the look on the woman's face, Catherine could tell that she had finally got it right without assistance and felt ridiculously pleased with herself.

"We'll work on defence for now," Teyla said, knowing it will probably take them months before she could teach the woman to attack without hurting herself. So far, the only fruit of her work lay in a correct fighting stance and getting her not to hit herself over the head with her own weapon when she parried. "All you have to do is block, understand?"

Catherine nodded.

"I'll go slowly and when I come within reach, you either duck out of the way or block me with your weapon," she explained for the Nth time. She knew the woman understood the principle; she was just very uncoordinated and extremely impetuous. Her patience was even worse.

They began.

Teyla was moving slowly, with immense care not to let her blows hit too hard.

Catherine managed to duck out of the way of the first hits, blocked a third and managed to trip over her left foot before the fourth was even aimed.

She was terrible, Teyla thought, but at least she was trying to do something about it. She helped her to her feet and gave her a second before putting her back on her guard and starting over.

She was improving – she managed to block two blows, dodge another two and almost land one of her own before dropping one of her sticks.

"Sorry. It slipped," she said, bending after it.

"It's OK," Teyla said, waiting for her to finish.

When she returned to vertical, her stick recovered, Catherine's eyes found themselves faced with the overconfident smile plastered on John's face. The man was standing in the doorway, with a gym bag on his shoulder. Before she could turn all flustered, the medic inside her reacted first. "You're still not allowed to train," she cried. "I thought I was clear enough this morning," she said, suddenly remembering what the fight had been about.

"You're doing it," he remarked innocently.

"What does that have to do with anything?" she jumped. The conversation was giving her a feeling of déjà vu – didn't they already have this talk that morning?

"With one hand literally tied behind my back – well, to my chest, but same difference – I still need less training than you."

Fortunately, neither of them saw the look on Teyla's face.

"I promise I'll only train my left, happy?" he asked, dropping his bag.

"You'll probably go ahead with it even if I wasn't, right?" Catherine asked.

"Of course. But I'd rather you were."

This didn't even deserve a comeback. With a carefully indifferent look, she turned back to her opponent and, forgetting Teyla's instructions, decided to charge.

Taken by surprise, Teyla parried, knocking Catherine to the ground with one hit.

"I have told you we need to work on defence first," the Athosian warned, a little annoyed.

"Let me handle the good doctor this evening," John offered, suddenly deciding Teyla needed a break.

The woman gave him a worried look. "Are you sure about this?"

"Look at me!" he said, pointing to the bandaged shoulder. "I'm already incapacitated. How much of a fight could I put up?"

All the while, Catherine was giving Teyla desperate looks, but the Athosian simply ignored them and conceited. There was something about these two that made her feel uncomfortable. She left Catherine alone in John's care.

o0o0o

John kept his eyes on Teyla until she left the room and then took one of the sticks out of his bag. Catherine couldn't help noticing he had both of them with him, but didn't comment on it. She was angry enough to keep arguing with him 'til morning. It was best they didn't start anything for now.

"Are you really going to fight me in the state you're in?" she asked as he effortlessly slipped into a fighting stance. She knew he could probably beat her regardless of his physical condition. He had more practice and better skills and, well, let's face it, anyone could probably beat her anyway.

"If you insist," he said, smiling cheekily.

Not really considering the consequences, she charged blindly.

She soon found herself disarmed and couldn't even remember how she ended up sprawled on the floor.

There was the first difference between him and Teyla – he wasn't trying to teach her anything, just showing off his skills. This annoyed her even further. With a quick twist she hadn't known she was capable of, she was crouching and, with a swift blow, hit him hard above the knee before realizing he had been offering her his hand to pick her up. On the other hand, how the hell could he have missed that blow?

"A-AU! What was that about?" he asked, cringing in pain.

"You could have blocked that," she hissed, feeling awfully guilty. She could swear he had let her hit him on purpose. Getting up by herself, she grabbed her bag and headed for the door.

"You're gonna leave me here like this?" John asked still clutching his injured knee. "What kind of doctor are you?"

"One that's heading for the infirmary," she answered, waving her hand in front of the panel. The door opened.

"Look, I was trying to have a serious talk with you," he insisted. "Sorry if it degenerated into something else."

What nerve! First he came over to provoke her, ignoring her very well intended and professional advice, and now he wanted to talk to her. As if she could care less.

"Sorry if I'm not interested," she said, leaving without a second glance.

Limping after her, he caught her hand and pulled her back into the training room, closing the door behind them.

"Look! What were you trying to pull back there with the Wraith?" he finally jumped right to the subject. "You nearly got yourself killed! Didn't I tell you to run?"

"Didn't I tell you not to work out for another week?" she retorted. She dropped her bag. "You want to talk about that? Fine. Let's!" She was seething. If she was standing around, she was a liability, if she tried to help, she was a liability – if she hadn't acted, he would have been killed. Now he was acting as if saving him from the Wraith was a crime!

"As long as we're in the City, you can do whatever you like. I have no authority over you and I don't even want to. But in the field, I expect my men to follow my orders!" he nearly shouted.

"I'm not one of your men."

"You are part of my team. I'm responsible for what happens to you and everyone else in it once you step through that Gate."

"The hell I am!"

"You are. You can't protect yourself, so it's my job to keep you safe. I can't do that if I tell you to run and you just stand there, threatening a Wraith with a penknife. A _fucking_ penknife. Where did you even got that thing from? Who thought it would be a good idea to entrust you with something like that?"

"Can I have my arm back?" she asked, ignoring his triad.

"You're not listening! I'm trying to understand why you would do something as stupid," he insisted.

Now this was either the height of hypocrisy or he was plain dumb and she needed to spell it out for him. "You're the one always going on about not leaving people behind!" she snapped, looking him straight in the eye. With a little effort, her words sank in.

"If you can actually help, yes," he grudgingly agreed. "Not by uselessly endangering everyone around you!"

"I only endangered myself," she argued, too angry to give in. Besides, she felt tempted to point out that was his reputation.

"This is exactly what I was saying!" His voice was even, but the way he looked at her was enough to let her know how close he was to snapping. On the other hand, Catherine had long since passed that stage.

"Last I checked, I was the only one interested in my own well being and responsible for my own life! I'm over 18, you know!"

"You sure don't look it. And while you're in my care-"

"I was _not_ in your care!"

o0o0o

This was the most infuriating woman he had ever had to deal with. Couldn't she just get it into her head that they had all been worried about her back there? That _he_ was worried? That she was his responsibility and had nearly gotten herself killed under his own eyes? And that, as long as she wasn't able to understand his point, he wasn't going to take her anywhere?

"I see you're intent on making sure you never go on another off world mission again. Congratulations, you've done it," he said, finally letting go of her arm.

"You wouldn't!" she hissed. The blood ran out of her face and her eyes flared up with anger.

"Yes, I would and I will. I can't have you around, being a liability," he explained. "And I can make sure Elizabeth agrees. She definitely wouldn't want anything happening to you."

"Oh, I don't need your concern!" she nearly spit. "And I was taking care of that!"

He took a calming breath, that didn't do anything to help his temper. "Oh, you were?" he asked, throwing one of the fighting staffs to her. "Then let's see you at it!"

This time, he charged without warning.

She managed to dodge his sudden attack, but was taken by surprise by his next blow. In the blink of an eye, she was on the floor again, but she picked herself up and charged. He parried and eventually threw her back to the floor.

They kept at it, one attacking, the other defending, Catherine hitting the floor for over half an hour before he eventually gave up. He had to admire her tenacity. She was probably black and blue from all the hits and falls she had taken, but she was always back on her feet, no complains, and more determined than before.

"OK, enough!" he said, tired of seeing her torturing herself like that. He had no clue what drove her on, but, then again, there was so little he actually knew about her. He wasn't even able to understand how she could possibly think she stood a chance against the Wraith, without a weapon and no training, let alone _why_ she had decided to stand up for him at a time like that. Somehow, their discussions never made it this far even when the question was always on the tip of his mind – they always seemed to degenerate into these ridiculous squabbles.

"Tell Teyla not to spare you the next time. You're never going to learn if the worst she does to you is trip you off your feet," he advised, offering her a hand up. He was determined to get his questions answered and he couldn't do that if they kept fighting like idiots.

"Give me a break," she said, refusing his hand and getting up on her own again.

This brought to mind another thing he had intended to talk to her about.

"Why do you keep acting so... aggressive around me?" he asked, a little calmer.

She avoided his glance, hesitating to answer. Stuffing her weapons back in her bag, she eventually muttered "I'm not aggressive."

"No, you're defensive," he corrected himself, walking toward her. "Why? What have I done to make you act like this around me? Every time I think we're on the right track, you immediately do a 180 and we start all over again."

She flinched away and turned to leave. It was easier for her to run than to answer, it seemed, and it was worse than the arguing.

"You're not getting out of this that easily," he said, blocking her way. "Not again."

She was biting her lip, stalling. Her anger seemed to have her tong-tied.

"I can't solve the problem if I don't know what it is about," he insisted.

"There's nothing for you to solve. Do you really have to get along with everyone?" she dodged his question again. If she could do the same with a fighting staff, no one would get a chance to hit her.

"No, but with you, it's worse than disagreeing. You take advantage of every chance you get to snap at me, disobey my instructions and treat me like an enemy. Since you're the only one that does that, I need to find out why. Even Kolya is more civil towards me when we meet!"

"That's nice to hear. Maybe I'll get to read about it in the next update of the fan fiction archive."

"Let's not go there. And don't change the subject again." He was now so close to her, they nearly touched. There was no way she could avoid an answer this time.

He nearly felt guilty seeing the blood rush back into her cheeks. He was closer to an explanation than she was happy with and she didn't even need to open her mouth to speak. John wasn't sure if he would be comfortable knowing he could stir such feelings in her, assuming he was right in his assumptions and she was putting on this show of hatred and anger to mask something else, but he pressed on. "Why did you stay?" His voice was softer and he didn't try to make her look at him.

She did it nonetheless. Her eyes were almost pleading for her to be left alone, but he knew he wouldn't get another chance to ask her any time soon.

"I insist, Catherine – why did you risk your life to save mine?"

Before Catherine could answer, the radio came alive with Elizabeth's worried voice.

"Dr Spencer, your presence is needed on the second floor, west wing. I'll have Zelenka waiting by the elevator. It's Rodney..."

The colour drained from her cheeks again but she kept her eyes steady on him, unable to move.

Seeing the look on her face, John decided to drop the subject for now and stepped out of her way. Besides, silence could be an answer as well.

"I'm coming," she answered the radio. She nodded a faint thanks to John and ran off in the wrong direction.

He caught up with her before she had gotten too far away and lost and wordlessly convinced her to let him escort her to the right place.

o0o0o

They found Kusanagi waiting for them in the hallway, extremely nervous. She looked as if it were a matter of life and death and, with every second longer it took to get to the lab, Catherine was beginning to feel the same.

"What did he get himself into this time?" John asked directly, knowing Rodney all too well not to think he had gotten into whatever it was all by himself.

"Dr McKay was experimenting with a device we had recently discovered in one of the unexplored parts of the City," Kusanagi explained, outraged by the condescended tone Colonel Sheppard had affected while talking about her boss.

"Let me guess, he pushed some buttons randomly to see what it does," John concluded, having a strong feeling of déjà vu.

Kusanagi needed all her will power not to give in and smack him upside the head. "How can you say that? Dr McKay has run all the tests possible before turning on the device," she protested.

"Did those tests tell him what it does?"

Lowering her gaze, Kusanagi had to admit to herself that her boss was rather impetuous when the tests turned out no viable answers. Still, she couldn't leave him at the mercy of this heathen. "I was the one instructed to push the buttons," she explained. It was true, at first, but the device didn't respond to her commands.

"Of course…" He didn't quite believe Rodney would let anyone else take away from him the pleasure of pushing a virgin button. The man might have been afraid of many things, but he definitely couldn't resist the temptation of seeing what a button did. "Have you sent for Zelenka?" John insisted.

To Catherine, it felt they were taking ages to get there. "Are we going there already, or are we going to stand here all day discussing who was to blame for pushing a damn button?" she finally snapped.

As she was finishing her question, the elevator doors opened behind them and Zelenka came running toward them. "What did he do now?" he asked, knowing Rodney too well to assume it was anything but his fault.

Surprisingly, Kusanagi didn't try to excuse her boss before Zelenka. Rather, she went ahead and described in detail how the device had been turned on, which buttons had been pushed, in which order and by whom before asking for his advice on the matter. All the while, their pace had increased enough to actually reach the room within minutes – surprisingly, the woman spoke fast enough to brief Zelenka on all of those elements before the doors even opened.

o0o0o

The air in the room was stale. Zelenka was the first to rush in, intending to shut down the device which was emanating waves of energy into the room, somehow pooling around Rodney's unconscious body. Elizabeth was looking after him, checking his vitals and trying to bring him back to consciousness.

"Zelenka, Catherine, you're finally here!" she exclaimed. "We've tried everything," she said, pointing to the device that had refused all their efforts of turning it off.

Catherine rushed in after Zelenka, kneeling next to Elizabeth and checking Rodney's vital signs herself. He seemed fine. Aside from being unconscious, there seemed to be nothing physically wrong with him.

John stayed just inside the doorway, not sure how he could be of assistance and not wanting to cause any more conflict. He watched the waves of energy wash over them. They gave him a tingling feeling and he wondered if that was right.

With a few more instructions from Kusanagi, Zelenka had discovered the most probable off switch and pressed it, before collapsing to the floor unconscious.

"Great, now we lost both of them!" John managed to sound both irritated and worried at the same time.

Catherine gave him a scathing look but before she could open her mouth to comment, Rodney began to stir and brought her attention back to him. Thankfully his heart was beating normally and his eyes slowly opened. "So typical of McKay," he remarked.

Elizabeth and John exchanged glances. This was an odd development. Rodney had yet to refer to himself in the third person.

Next to the device, Radek too began to stir. Catherine was immediately by his side, to see if he was alright – just like with Rodney, there were no physical signs of anything wrong. The man opened his eyes, saw Catherine and smiled. "When did you get here?" he asked absently before his eyes wondered around the room and saw Elizabeth watching over a dazed Rodney. "And how did I get over there?" he asked, a little shocked.

Something was definitely wrong.

"Rodney, what were you doing before you blacked out?" John asked, without leaving his spot.

To their surprise, Zelenka answered for him. "I was trying to override the safety mechanism," he said.

They all looked from Zelenka to Rodney and back again.

"It worked, didn't it?" Zelenka said, shaking his head in realization. "Zelenka?" he called to Rodney.

In turn, Rodney sat up and looked at Zelenka. "Yes?"

"Great!" Zelenka said. "I'm you?"

Rodney nodded.

Elizabeth and Catherine kept turning from one to the other, trying to keep up. "What's going on here?" Elizabeth finally asked.

"I'm stuck in Radek's body," said Zelenka.

"We seem to have changed bodies, or consciousnesses, whatever. I'm Radek," explained Rodney's body "And he's stuck in by body."

It took a while for the realization to sink in.

"I'm stuck in Radek's body," Rodney repeated. "I'm _stuck_ in Radek's body. I'm stuck in _Radek's_ body," he kept repeating, trying out various intonations, until he finally reached the one that sounded right. "I'm _stuck_ in **_Radek's_** body!"

Catherine patted him on the back, unsure of how one should react to such events. "But, this isn't possible," she finally decided on. Not the best remark she could make at a time like this, admittedly, but it was the best she could come up with.

John waved her away. "That's nothing. He once had another person stuck in his head for days," he reminded.

Rodney, still under the shock of being _stuck_ in **_Radek's_** **body** , jumped to his feet, pushing Catherine aside, and turned quickly to the controls, intending to fix the situation. The waves of energy began washing over them once more and John ran over to stop him before anything worse happened.

o0o0o

The darkness crept out of the corners of his mind and John could see himself next to Rodney, picking himself off of the floor with the help of the scientist. Elizabeth was next to him, but she seemed to have just recovered after a shock herself. Realization hit like a sledgehammer.

"Which one's in my body?" he asked, strangely calm about it. He was pointing at his own body, hoping this would make things clearer.

"It's me, sir." Somehow, Kusanagi managed to make herself recognized without actually saying her name.

John rolled his eyes. It was strange to find yourself in another's body. The commands weren't quite right and he kept expecting to topple over as he stood up. He watched Elizabeth sitting there quietly and wondered if she had escaped unaffected. She looked a bit confused, but with what was going on, it was to be expected. At least, if she had been replaced by Rodney, it would have been easy to tell from all the fuss he/she would be making. Right now, it looked like Rodney was in Kusanagi's body.

"Elizabeth?" he called tentatively.

Elizabeth shook her head. "It's Radek."

"I'm here," Elizabeth said from Catherine's body.

Kusanagi's body was running around the controls, pressing buttons and muttering menacingly. It was pretty clear who was in there. "Rodney, are you sure you know what you're doing?" John asked.

"I simply need to recalibrate this so it will take all of us into account and I'll probably need to work in the order in which you walked in…" Seeing that no one was really listening, he turned to them and, stamping his feminine, Japanese foot, commanded their attention. "What are you waiting for? I just said I need to know what order you walked in… in," the phrase seemed to get away from him. Kusanagi's voice wasn't really working for him – she just wasn't made to command attention.

As far as Catherine was concerned, she had decided that the whole morning had to be a dream – how else could she have ended up in another person, a man's body, staring up at her self. She had found enough strength to sit up and stood staring at the other. _It had to be a dream_. Kusanagi was walking around, pretending to be Rodney – she was doing an awfully good impression of him, mind – Elizabeth had joined her, pretending to be Zelenka and they both kept arguing over what needed to be recalibrated and what needed to be reversed, while John was sitting next to her, giving her coy looks – after the beating she had received earlier from him, the last thing she needed was his loving devotion. Rodney too was standing back, watching the madness unfold.

It **_had_** to be a dream.

John had easily recognized Catherine in Radek's body – she still needed to learn a lot about how weird things tended to get around here and be grateful the problem looked fixable. Sure, it seemed to increase in magnitude, dragging more and more people into that mess, but with all this body hopping going on, he felt confident they would eventually reach their original ones. Unless the two scientists in charge managed to get it wrong somehow.

"What have you been doing all day, Catherine? It feels like I've been put through a grinder," Catherine's body commented.

It did feel nice not to ache all over, thought Catherine, though she hadn't had enough time to think of the pain before her body brought it up just now. It was a nice dream then, with her body having to feel pain separately from her mind. "I've been training," she deemed it polite to answer. After all, you shouldn't mistreat your body even when you weren't in it any longer.

"Look! Will you please align yourselves in the order you came into the room?" Kusanagi commanded in a very Rodney like manner.

After five minutes of heated debate, they eventually decided the order their bodies had walked in was the one that counted. After another ten, they finally arranged themselves in the right order. Then, Kusanagi pressed a couple more buttons and it all went black.

o0o0o

When he opened his eyes, the first thing Radek did was make sure he was in the right body. He was. The disappointed sigh he could hear from Kusanagi initially made him think Rodney was still stuck in there, but she seemed pretty much herself otherwise.

"Darn it!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "At least now I won't have problems getting you to listen," she consoled herself in a very Rodney like fashion.

Rodney gave her a warning look. "Rodney, the next time you touch that device will be with the precise intention to and result that you get us all back to our original selves." There was no need to add an 'or else' to make it sound more threatening.

Catherine and John seemed quiet, though they had different reasons to be. Catherine was wondering why she couldn't wake out of this dream and why she could still see her body before her, while John was stunned to discover in whose body he was – it really did ache like hell and he felt sorry for being so hard on her; had he only known then that less than an hour later he'd be stuck in her body…

"So, those two…" Radek said, pointing at Rodney and Elizabeth with his arms crossed, "are each other. I'm me… I think… How about the rest of you?" he asked, hoping Rodney/Elizabeth would be the only mix-up he'd have to deal with.

Kusanagi raised a timid hand. "I think I'm in the right body."

"Well, good on you!" said Rodney from Elizabeth's body, arms folded across her chest and looking dejected.

"John?" Elizabeth asked, tentatively.

"Here," Catherine's body grumbled. "And you'd better find a way to solve this mess quickly, Rodney."

"What are you doing in my girlfriend's body?" Rodney snapped. The question sounded doubly inuendoized being asked through Elizabeth's person.

"This may sound like a cliché, but it's exactly what it looks like. Regardless what you may think, let me tell you, it's not a joy to be in here," John assured him, rubbing his sore arm.

His pain was increased by a strong pinch on his other arm and he was particularly proud of himself for not squealing like a girl.

"And whose fault is it, to begin with?" Catherine snapped from his own body, her fingers still pinching his skin. She wasn't going to bring up the sore knee she was now faced with, but she sure was proud of herself of landing that blow, even if it did come back to bite her in the end.

Elizabeth stood up, clearing her throat. "Children, behave!" It felt odd to use someone else's voice, but she kept enough of her composure to inspire authority. Even Catherine released John's arm (her own, to be fair). "Rodney, Zelenka, how long do you need to fix this mess?" she asked the two confused scientists.

"A few hours," Rodney assured her.

"A week, maybe more," said Radek, shrugging. "We don't even know what we're dealing with here. Maybe if Rodney had looked for the instructions before poking at the buttons…"

"Instructions! Sure, it must have been that huge, invisible volume we tripped over on our way in! How are we supposed to know what a machine does without _poking at the buttons_?"

"Wasn't there a data base or something? You could have looked there first!" John snapped, longing for a long, warm bath to ease the pain from today's training.

"Don't you think we'd have, if there were one to begin with?" Rodney retorted. It was revolting how they always made him responsible for everything that went wrong, when he was the one supposed to fix everything, anyway.

"Did you?" John insisted.

Rodney averted his gaze, looking rather coy. "There probably wasn't one, anyway. Sometimes, it's best to take some shortcuts to-"

"So, you didn't even bother," John growled, standing and walking menacingly toward Rodney. The effect wasn't exactly as impressive as intended – he hadn't really noticed just how short Catherine was, especially compared to Elizabeth.

"You'd better not get me into a cat-fight, now," Catherine rolled her eyes.

"You're both adults, behave accordingly!" Elizabeth warned, oddly amused by the sight. Then again, this needed fixing and fast – she didn't much fancy spending a whole week as Rodney, she wasn't even going to consider the possibility of the switch to be permanent. "John, we need to explain this to the base, quarantine this sector and let them come up with a solution."

"And how do you propose we do this? Rodney and Catherine show up, they tell everyone they don't feel quite… themselves lately and… what? That's gonna go well!" John commented.

"What do you propose?"

"Besides, has anyone checked the calendar lately?" Radek pointed out.

"It's the 1st of April, why?" asked Rodney, the idea clicking in his mind a second later. "You've got to be kidding me!"

"With all the stuff going on around here, Freaky Friday had to happen just now!" Catherine sighed. Biting her lip, she carefully stood up, wondering just _how_ she'd hit him so hard. It was becoming awfully obvious this wasn't a dream, unless it was the weirdest nightmare in her life.

"Then, Rodney will just have to announce the quarantine in my place and start working on a solution," Elizabeth concluded.

"Couldn't we move the device to the lab? It would be easier to work on it there," Rodney suggested.

"No, she's right. We don't want to get the whole base mixed up in this. You've seen how the range of the device expands with every use. Imagine what it could do with that many people around," Zelenka reasoned.

"You can bring whatever equipment you need from the labs, but don't turn the device on with anyone other than us around. It's confusing enough being you," Elisabeth agreed. "Come on, Rodney. We need to give them the big news."

Catherine, quiet until then, stopped them before they left. "We need to go to the Infirmary first to run some tests. I need to make sure there aren't any other physical consequences to this confusion."

"That's something I never imagined seeing myself say… Literally," John commented.

o0o0o

"Don't you have anything better to do?" John asked. Catherine had been following him around for a couple of hours now, making a surreal spectacle of his day.

"Not in this body and I'll be damned if I leave you alone with mine!" she answered. She wasn't sure _what_ exactly could happen if she left him alone, but she didn't want to imagine it. Fortunately, there weren't any physical side effects, yet. Psychically, it was awkward enough having to chase herself down the corridors and watch herself eat. There wasn't long until other physiological needs kicked in and she wondered how she was going to handle _that_ – so far, she had managed not to eat or drink anything in the hope that Rodney would find a solution before she had to, but John hadn't been so cautious and pretty soon he would have to answer the call of nature. "Are you sure it's a good idea to have that beer?" she asked, sitting across the table from him.

"Don't worry, I won't ruin your reputation. Actually, I think something stronger would be a better idea, but then you'd really be compromised."

She hadn't been exactly thinking of her no-drinking reputation, but she was grateful he wasn't drunk in her body yet – she knew first hand how low her alcohol tolerance was. The beer was probably enough, anyway.

"Give that!" she said, snatching the bottle out of his hand and chugging half of it.

She chocked.

"How the hell can you drink something like this?" she asked, putting the beer down in disgust.

"I don't drink it _like that_ , that's the whole point. You only chug it like that if you're a college frat boy," he pointed out.

"Ha. Ha. Ha." She scrunched up her nose in disgust. "I was talking about the taste."

"I'm surprised you felt it at all. It's Athosian beer – it has no taste. No idea how they brew it, but it's all the alcohol without the taste."

"You've got to be kidding."

"Come on. If you really want to see the difference, I still have some real, Earth beer in my room," John offered, standing up. He felt a bit tipsy, which was ridiculous after just half a beer.

"So you want to get me drunk in your room?" Catherine asked almost flirtingly, apparently oblivious to their current situation.

"No, I want to get myself drunk in my room. You would be a byproduct. Besides, it's the only way to get through this day with my sanity intact and I suggest you do the same."

"If you think, for one second, that I'll let you drunk in possession of _my_ body, you've got another thing coming!" she hissed, standing up as well. Just as ridiculously, she didn't feel the least bit tipsy, even after chugging half a beer.

"I take it you'll join me, then?" John asked, attempting a charming smile. It came out more cutesy than charming, but it seemed to have done its job.

o0o0o

Rodney dreaded hearing his own voice behind him.

"Any progress yet?" Elizabeth asked, coming in to the now out off bounds section. She had been busy working on overdue reports in her room, keeping out of sight, since she – well, Rodney – announced the quarantine of a quarter of the city. She was grateful no one had bothered yet to check up on her and run into Rodney. She was even more grateful no one poked around in the out of bounds area, to run into her posing as chief scientist.

"Even genius needs time to unfold," replied Rodney, without looking away from the controls.

"He means we have no idea how this works," translated Zelenka.

"Yet," Rodney corrected him. "It can't take much longer before-"

"Before you fall asleep from exhaustion," Zelenka interrupted him. "It doesn't matter how optimistic you are about it. We've been over all the possibilities, all the options. The only certainty is that we have no idea how to operate this. We don't even know if this was the initial function of the device. For all we know, we've managed to turn the toaster into a mind altering device and we can't even be sure how we did that. OK, _Rodney_ managed that-"

"You _had_ to bring that up!" Rodney interrupted. "I probably would have had this fixed by now without your constant interruptions!"

"Tî arogantni zmrde!" Zelenka swore under his breath, throwing his tablet on the console. "That's it! If you want to get back in your body, you can do it yourself!" he said, walking out in a chorus of Czech mumblings which sounded suspiciously like swearing and were most definitely directed at his stubborn, Canadian colleague.

"Finally!" Rodney exclaimed with relief. "I can finally work on this properly!"

Elizabeth folded her arms across her chest, a gesture that looked most indignant in her current body. "I hope you know what you're doing, Rodney."

"Relax," he assured her. "Everything's under control."

Somehow, she doubted it.

o0o0o

Normally, John would have found it highly disturbing to see himself in front of him. This time, there was a perfectly good explanation for it. What was particularly alarming was that there were two of himself standing before him. What was worse, they were swaying… or maybe he was. Honestly! Two beers shouldn't have this effect on him! Especially when he wasn't even finished with the second!

"Do you really have zero alcohol tolerance?" he asked Catherine, who seemed to have discovered her fondness for booze, liquor, moonshine, whatever form of alcohol she could get her hands on. Did he really have such a high tolerance himself? She was on her second glass of whiskey, after three beers and two cups of whatever it was Teyla got him for his birthday.

"For now, it looks like _you_ have zero tolerance," Catherine answered cheerfully. She was still terrified by the moment she would have to answer the call of nature, or when John would – which, by the looks of it, would definitely be sooner, rather than later – but the alcohol sure helped ease the fear a bit. She was surprised she was merely tipsy yet. Certainly, this much alcohol would have normally sent her directly to the infirmary in a coma.

As if answering the call of her darkest premonitions, John stood up.

"Where are you going?" she asked hurriedly.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I need to go to the Little Girls' room," he said, sawing gently with the room.

"No, you're not!"

"I doubt they'll have me in the Little Boys' room," he joked, giggling at the silliness of his little joke.

Catherine wasn't smiling. She was actually debating going with him.

"It just _had_ to be you! Why couldn't I change bodies with Elizabeth? Or, at least, Rodney? Or Radek? Even _he_ would have been better!" she complained.

"You should be grateful," he said with a smirk, "I might even know how to use this," he said, gesturing to his current body.

"That's exactly what I meant!" she screeched. Maybe her alcohol tolerance wasn't as high as she thought, but he was definitely pushing the wrong buttons. "I had to end up switching bodies with the biggest pervert of the bunch!"

"Since when?" he protested indignant. He was almost certain there were more conclusive cases in the IT department.

"You have an entire Harem!"

John stared at her blankly. "A what?"

"A Harem, a fan club, whatever they want to call themselves. Do you need to take out a dictionary?" she asked sweetly, using his own charming smile against him.

Now, he stared at her in shock. Was she really that naïve? "You know, I think you might have caught up with me after that second Jack," he joked, heading for the door. "By the way, I have no clue what you're on about." Before she could throw her glass at him – and he was sure she would have if he gave her the chance – the door closed behind him and he was left wondering how much he needed to know about this new body he found himself in.

Left on her own, she began snooping around his much roomier room, in search of evidence to back up her earlier accusation. It helped keep her mind off of whatever he was doing or seeing in the bathroom.

She could feel Johnny Cash's accusing stare on her back as she dug through his drawers in search of forgotten bras or whatever it was a herd of admirers would leave behind. He was surprisingly tidy and that darn poster was beginning to get to her. Could he have been honest? If so, why was she rummaging through his stuff in the first place?

This was silly!

She was about to give up, when a picture stuffed into the last drawer caught her attention – it was a snapshot of him with his arms around a woman. He looked younger, maybe her age. She was certain she didn't know the woman, but before she could get a better look at the picture, she heard the door opening behind her and she shut the drawer with a quick movement, turning to face him as if nothing had happened – this was just between Johnny Cash and herself.

"I looked away," he deemed to inform her, knowing it would probably wind her up again.

"And I believe you," she responded without her usual bite. The picture had latched onto her thoughts and was working its way through the haze. It might have been a relative, sure, but something kept telling her there had to be more between them for John to keep a photo of her, and keep it out of sight at that.

"You do?" he asked stunned, sitting back down at the table. "Where were we?"

"We were going through your bottle of Jack Daniel's, I believe." A stray thought had blossomed into an idea in Catherine's head and she could almost feel her devil's horns growing. "How about a game to help it along?"

Poring himself a glass of whiskey, he raised an eyebrow. "What do you have in mind? Strip poker?"

"You'd wish. You'd probably let me win."

"No, not really. At the moment, you definitely have nothing I'd want to see," he assured her. "I think I'd kick your ass at it and enjoy the view in a mirror later." He was slurring his words a bit, but it sounded mostly intentional… he hoped.

Looking at him in that state, Catherine was painfully reminded why she didn't normally drink – his neurons seemed to die with each passing second and each new glass. She was almost grateful do be stuck in a more resilient body and she hoped Rodney would take his time fixing the device 'til after the hangover had passed. She definitely didn't want to wake up the next day in a bruised and battered body, complete with a splitting headache and an elephant marching band parading through her skull.

She pored herself a new glass. "No, thanks. Poker's not really my thing. I was thinking of _Truth or Dare_."

John burst into giggles. "We're not in high school!"

"We're not even in our own bodies, but why should that be a problem?" she objected.

Come to think of it, it wasn't such a bad idea. "OK, how do you propose we go about this?"

"We down a glass, first to make a face, loses," she explained.

He grinned. He _never_ made a face when drinking was involved. Well, there was that one time, but it wasn't whiskey. "You're on."

They both finished their drinks at once. Despite her devious plans, Catherine lost, betrayed by her lack of practice – she'd probably never get used to the taste.

"So, truth or dare?" he asked, smirking.

She didn't want to imagine what he might dare her to do, so she went with the safer choice, "Truth."

"How far did you get with Rodney?"

"What sort of question is that?" she snapped, nearly choking on her drink.

"A simple one. One you can only answer with the truth." It was highly amusing at this stage to watch himself get so flustered.

"Dare me!"

"Sure. I dare you to answer," he smirked.

"We went to the mainland," she answered smugly.

o0o0o

It wasn't until 2am that Rodney remembered he hadn't eaten all day. His eyes hurt, his back was all in knots and his stomach was protesting most vehemently. What was worst – he hadn't gotten anywhere with the device. He found some instructions, but they were nothing better than riddles so he dropped the text off with Mida for a translation and headed for the mess hall before he collapsed from starvation. He didn't even dare check his blood sugar.

He had already topped his plate and was wondering what desert to pick when he was struck by two thoughts – he had no idea what Elizabeth was allergic to and he was finally able to try the lemon pie. Completely oblivious to the time of night, he turned his radio on and called her. "Elizabeth, are you allergic to anything?"

His own voice was muffled and sleepy. "What?"

"Are you allergic to anything?"

"No, go away," she grumbled.

"Good," Rodney grinned, adding the lemon pie to his tray. "You didn't have any citrus today, have you?"

"No, Rodney. Can I go back to sleep, now?"

"Sleep? Sure… Wait! You're sleeping on a hard mattress, right?"

"Good night, Rodney!"

"Only, I don't want my back to be all twisty when I get back in my body."

There was no answer.

Shrugging, he sat down with his past-midnight snack, devouring it to the last morsel. The lemon pie awaited at the end as a special treat, one declined him for years.

o0o0o

Catherine awoke to a nightmarish headache and a stiff back. Without opening her eyes, she stretched and turned on her side – a less than successful move as she instantly found herself crashing to the spinning floor with the chair on top. The brief expletive this incident elicited made her aware of another oddity – it hadn't come out in her voice.

"Fuck!"

She was looking for a logical explanation to the situation, but all she found was her self, drooping out of the opposite chair, her head leaning against the seat and hands hanging from under the armrests. Logic flew out the window and was surprisingly replaced by a ridiculous pride at being the only one to see her self in such a state – if she ever needed to explain why she didn't usually drink, she was going to keep this to herself.

The thought that she looked strangely adorable crossed her mind. Like a kid who found her uncle's stash of moonshine and was now sleeping it off, the thought went on. She felt it odd at best – she never thought of herself as 'adorable' and she doubted the drunken factor added to her childish charm. It did, however, bypass her conscientious defences and constrains, stripping her of any shred of authority. She doubted Elizabeth would look like that, regardless of circumstance. Even Miko commanded more respect than she did at the moment!

Chasing the thought away with some effort, she pushed herself up into a semi-sitting position, determined to put an end to the scene before she gave John diabetes – it made her all the more grateful she was the only witness to her own unintentional cuteness.

Looking for something to throw, she decided on the radio as the closest would-be missile and, with a mischievous smile, she threw it at her self. It didn't surprise her when it didn't hit the target. It connected, instead, with poor Johnny Cash, a couple of meters to the right.

"Sorry," she apologized. The idea of apologizing to a poster soon sent her into a fit of giggles that eventually succeeded where the radio failed – it awoke the person across from her. Realizing John would awake to the sight of his own person laughing uncontrollably at him, her fit of laughter intensified. She had to still be drunk. Even that thought seemed incredibly amusing.

o0o0o

It was alarming to wake up with someone laughing at you. It was worse when that someone was yourself. Confusion threatened to take over until one word made sense return to the world. "Rodney," he growled in a most unmasculine voice.

"No," the other answered between giggles, "Catherine. Rodney's Elizabeth… I think."

The comforting embrace of alcohol called to him, promising everything would make sense after a glass or two, but he refused the offer – there were worse things that could happen and he wasn't curious to learn what.

"Can you make it stop spinning?" he heard Catherine ask, finally serious and lying on the floor, staring up.

Now that she mentioned it, it felt a bit like riding a carousel, everything spinning around him. "Which one? The ceiling or the floor? I can't do both."

"The ceiling. The floor is less alarming," she muttered, turning to look at him. "And would you put your hair up already? Actually, _my_ hair."

He gave her an innocent look. "It's OK. Actually, I was curious what it would feel like to have long hair," he reassured her. There was that time in high school he had actually tried growing it out, but he soon discovered that he didn't have the follicles for it. Absently twirling a lock on his finger, he added "Though being a blonde is a bonus."

"Really?" she said coldly. "How about an extra bonus?" she offered, the sudden sing-song in her voice betraying her dark intentions.

He saw her take off her shoe. He knew what she was going to do with it, too. There just was this delay between his mind and body that prevented him to duck when she actually threw it at him.

She looked as surprised as he was when it actually hit home.

"A-au!" Rubbing his sore head, he looked mournfully at her. "That _hurt_!"

The pout came very naturally. It shocked him just how easy it was to turn his bottom lip down and make it quiver ever so slightly. It also seemed to work on her, though not the way he expected – she looked nearly terrified, hiding her eyes behind her palm.

" _Please_ don't do that!"

"What?" he asked innocently.

Running her hand through her hair in a very John manner, she rolled her eyes and finally set down some rules. "You don't pout, you don't whimper and you most definitely don't ware your hair loose! If I catch you trying to be cute again, there's another shoe waiting."

"What's wrong with being cute?" he teased.

She drew a deep breath. "Nothing… when you're 10. I'm 25, try to act like it."

"I still don't see your point," he shook his head, genuinely at a loss.

"You try running a department full of people twice your age and be cute at it, see how it works out for you," she explained, trying not to snap at him just yet.

At least this explained part of her behaviour. It wasn't unexpected – prodigy or not, she just didn't have the look of a leader so she was compensating the only way she could – but he was a bit surprised to hear her admit it. "It would take a while but, in the end, they'd probably respect you for what you are without the act."

"Who says I'm acting?" she turned defensive. He was right and that bothered her. When did he get to know her so well? But she couldn't drop the act – she had kept it up for so long that she became the act. She acted mature through school, she acted strong when her mother died, she acted indifferent when her world had crashed around her and she was keeping up those acts as a lifeline to her survival.

 _In vino veritas_ , he would have quoted, but the variety of bottles on the table attested to many more sources of truth. There was already too much truth and intimacy between them for him to push her further.

His body hurt all over but he couldn't spend all morning on the floor, no matter how tempting it sounded. Besides, someone had to check on Rodney if they ever wanted to become themselves again. It took considerable effort to push himself up and it felt like gravity had turned against him, but he was eventually upright and door-wise and he dubbed it a resounding success in his mind. With a vow not to touch alcohol again while in this body, he turned to the still horizontal Catherine. "I'm off. If you need clothes, the closet's over there," he pointed.

"John," she whimpered, bolting upright with a terrified look on her face.

Worried, he immediately knelt next to her, wondering if it was a consequence of the swap. "Yes?"

"I…" she said gravely, grabbing hold of his hand. "I need to use your bathroom."

"…oh…" he said, unimpressed by the situation. Another look at her distress made him change the tone of his response "Oh!"

"Yes. What should I do?"

"…use the bathroom…" He didn't like it any more than she did and he was trying not to think too much about it, but that _was_ the only solution.

"So… you're fine with it?" she asked, knowing she hadn't been as calm about it in his place.

"You're a doctor. It shouldn't be something you haven't seen before," he shrugged.

The comment made her blush, an action he hadn't known his body was physically capable of before. It didn't, however, seem to encourage her to get up.

"Are you waiting for assistance? Instructions? Haven't you had male patients before? You usually strip us before getting us on the operating table."

"It's the nurses that get to see everything, I just do the real work!" she snapped. Beat-red, she pushed him aside and stood on her wobbly feet. Wincing from the pain in her knee, she made her way to the bathroom without comment, throwing him one last killing look before going through the door.

It was the moment to call Rodney, fingers crossed for good news.

o0o0o

Waking up was generally a slow, painful experience for Rodney. It wasn't unheard of for him to have to detach his face from the embrace of his keyboard. He would never forget the time he had fallen asleep on his tablet and accidentally reprogrammed the safety protocol – it took him five hours to get the doors to open again. It was unheard of, however, to wake up next to a half eaten slice of lemon pie. There was an initial moment of panic, his body tensing up in expectation of anaphylactic shock. He wasn't disappointed when it didn't happen, but he was hit by flashbacks of the previous day – of course he was feeling fine.

He probably should be feeling a little guilty for Elizabeth, but it wasn't really _his_ fault she had to wake up with all his aches and pains. It wasn't his fault _he_ usually woke up with them.

The feeling of guilt, negligible as it already was, made a swift exit, aware of its presence going unnoticed.

The sweet sound of Catherine's voice pried him out of his reverie and plunged him into the cold water of full wakefulness, remembering he was talking to John. He wasn't entirely sure of what he was saying – something about Catherine, bathrooms, last night…

"You do realize I've been up all night working, right?" Rodney complained, shaking off any unwanted image John's list of nonsense might stir up.

"That's what I wanted to ask about. Any good news?"

"Yes, I was able to eat half a lemon pie," he said cheerily, wishing he could see the look on his friend's face – teasing John in the morning was almost as good as coffee.

"Rodney!" John warned, sounding like a pouting teenager rather than his normal commanding self.

The scientist tried hard not to burst out laughing, though the thought of Catherine talking to him in that tone made him feel a bit dirty under the circumstances.

"Look, I've been working all night! If I had anything, I'd tell you. As it is, you'll have to wait until I get another look at the device and run some more calculations."

"Can't you get Zelenka to help?"

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Do you _really_ think he can fix something I can't?"

"Then prove me wrong," John said too amiably, before signing out.

Rodney was left mumbling to the silent radio. "Fix this! Get that done! Can't you do it faster? Before we die a horrible death! Jeez, do they really think the time to solve a problem is reversely proportionate to its complexity? No, they think that all the incentive I need is the threat of Zelenka's collaboration! You know what?" he asked, pointing an accusing finger to the poor radio, "I don't need his help. You know why? We're probably screwed. If they think I need help, the shit has long hit the fan. We'll probably end up switching everyone around! That'll be fun."

Putting the radio away, he set back to work, already forgetting he had barely woken up. It was a long five minutes spent aimlessly tapping on keys and scrolling before he realized what was wrong – he couldn't make sense of his own notes. He remembered taking every note and making all the calculations, but he couldn't make heads or tails of them.

o0o0o

Elizabeth had been up for hours – she had awakened to the sound of snoring (her own, to be precise) after a night spent struggling to find a comfortable position on the hard mattress. She was beginning to think Rodney's famous backaches were self-inflicted or that he was probably masochistic. It was more comfortable to sleep on a slab of rock. Somehow, it wasn't a great leap of imagination from this to the complications being stuck in Rodney's body would bring to the organization of the base.

What would Simon say if he saw her like this? She hadn't thought of him in months, not since he had told her he was seeing someone. He was entitled to, after all, he hadn't seen her in years and he wasn't even sure if she was alive or not, but it didn't mean it was easier on her.

As always when her thoughts began to wonder towards dangerous grounds, she pushed them aside, filing them away for when she could afford it, and turned on her laptop.

It greeted her with a blue screen and a familiar error message – she had been meaning to get it fixed for days, but never really got around to it. Looking at the error message, she suddenly realized it wasn't as difficult to fix as she had previously thought. Before she could even consider asking someone else for help, she found herself typing away. She had no idea what exactly she was doing, but it seemed to be working. Within minutes, her laptop was already up and running.

o0o0o

Catherine was taking an awfully long time in the bathroom, to the point that he was about to go in after her – he didn't dare think about what she might be doing in there by herself. The sound of the shower made him stop at the door. He didn't want to embarrass her more than she was already, so he settled on knocking and speaking through the door.

"Take your time. I'm going to change as well – it wouldn't do to show up in this body wearing yesterday's clothes." He waited a moment for a reply and, when it didn't come, left the room in silence.

o0o0o

Her room was always a surprise – tiny and extremely well kept, everything neatly ordered and in its own place. However, there were no personal touches to it, as if she didn't expect to spend too much time in that room. Her closet was equally well ordered and the choice of clothing was small even by male standards. There was one lonely dress among her sombre uniforms, quite sombre itself, and he wondered if she planned on wearing it on her dates with Rodney. Though he was curious to know what she would look like in a dress, he didn't have the nerve to try it on himself. Luckily, her wardrobe was neutral enough not to make him uncomfortable – it would have been awkward indeed if he were forced to wear a skirt.

He probably should follow her example and shower, but the thought of seeing her naked…

Normally, in fiction at least, if a guy ever gets turned into a woman, he will immediately start fondling himself, wondering how everything works and trying it out while he could. John, however, was aware of the risks this brought on – Catherine would probably exert her revenge on him in a most painful way the next time he needed a shot of any kind or whenever his job would leave him at her mercy. Beside, it made him feel dirty just thinking of taking advantage of the situation.

He decided against the shower for now. Hopefully, Rodney would have them back before it became a necessity. Even so, there were things he couldn't avoid – blushing slightly, he started rummaging through her underwear drawer which, thankfully, showed the same lack of interest for anything that might be considered sexy. He undressed quickly, trying to look down as little as possible while doing so, and cursed every god he could remember for not giving men the knowledge to fasten a bra (they barely endowed a few lucky bastards with the skill to undo it on the first try). Despite his best efforts, he couldn't help a quick glance as his hands brushed over her breasts – they were full and larger than they appeared under her medical uniform. It was a bit worrying that this last observation didn't stir in him any of the usual feelings. Trying not to pay too much attention to that, he finished dressing in a hurry and remembered she had asked him to tie his hair back.

Looking at himself in the mirror, he couldn't help noticing that she was quite cute – petite, true, but the deep blue eyes, dimpled cheeks and innocent air only needed the right attitude to go with them to make her a very attractive woman. He would go so far as to call her beautiful, but never to her face. Besides, she always did her best to hide these traits – it was a miracle she hadn't gone so far as to wear thick glasses and braces to make the unattractive package complete. Pulling back his hair, he wondered if it would really be so bad if Catherine loosened up just a tiny little bit every now and then. With a mischievous gleam in his eyes, he took off the elastic holding back the sober ponytail, letting the dark blond strands frame her face. He didn't go as far as to put on makeup, mostly because he didn't know how but partly because he wanted to live long enough to get his body back. Just thinking of Catherine's reaction when she'd see him like this made the effort worth it.

o0o0o

Meanwhile, Catherine had finished bathing and found herself alone in John's room. The feeling of relief was overwhelming. At least, it pushed the moment she'd have to confront him again back a little more.

It had been medical curiosity and nothing more, she told herself as she rummaged through his underwear drawer. It was perfectly normal to make sure the body she was currently inhabiting was clinically healthy and everything was in its place –and it was. _It_ was very much in its place, she thought with a silly grin on her face. She immediately scolded her subconscious for coming up with such a lame joke and, more severely, for inuendoising her predicament. Still, she had to hand it to him (and groan at the pun) – at least by her standards, he was perfect. Not that she would ever admit it to his face. She shuddered at the thought.

Cheerfully discarding the towel she had wrapped herself in, she swiftly donned a pair of boxers and changed into one of his uniforms, thankful she didn't have to put too much effort into her appearance – God forbid she ruined his reputation by making him look less ruffled than usual.

A quick look in the mirror told her she was presentable enough to keep the interest of his fangirls and she headed to the mess hall for breakfast.

o0o0o

John had given far more time to combing his hair than usual, but he was finally pleased with the result. Maybe, if she had given up on the hair band sooner, it wouldn't have taken him eight months and a body switch to notice how pretty she was. He was quite proud with the outcome of his little makeover, considering what little he had to work with – he had made Catherine look like an actual human being, rather than the block of ice she tried to pass herself for and he burned with curiosity to see her face when she met her new self. It was his little payback for the shower thing.

With that thought in mind, he made his way across the small room, stumbling over the coffee table/desk in the process. Waiting for the pain to ease out of his toe and holding back a string of curses that would have amused him to hear Catherine utter, he noticed the screen of her laptop lighting up. He was going to turn it off – no use keeping the thing running – when his attention was drawn to his own name showing up multiple times in the opened page. Curious, he sat down to decipher the mystery and read on.

_Colonel Sheppard dropped his P-90 and hurried to Dr Spencer's side, worried he had been too late this time. She wasn't moving and her right hand was still clutching the damned penknife. How could anyone be so stupid as to go on a rescue mission with nothing but that puny thin? And how on earth did she get the blasted thing back?_

" _Hang on!" he pleaded, gathering her up in his arms. "You can't die on me now!" His voice was cracking and he held her tighter to him as if he could stand between her and Death. He was a fool, he knew it, but had he reached her moments sooner, she wouldn't have been in this state. He couldn't have expected_ her _of all people to do something as reckless as come to his rescue._

"What?" He read the fragment again and stared at the screen dumbly. It was one of the fics everyone seemed to be going on about, there was no doubt about that, but who would start writing about him and Catherine without her finding out and demanding satisfaction?

Come to think of it, Catherine did know about it - she was reading it!

Come to think of it, this was something _she_ knew about – unless there were others who had faced the uselessness of her penknife. That thing seemed to be springing up everywhere these days. Still, there were only two people who knew just how troublesome it was. _He_ definitely didn't write it and Catherine… it was highly improbable, but the evidence pointed to her.

A strange curiosity pushed him to scroll up and check – the user ID matched that of the author: _Sheppard's Girl_. It left him stunned. He felt like he had been nosing through her Diary. As in a trance, he scrolled back to where he had found the story, intending to leave the laptop the way he had found it, but the same curiosity made him scroll further down and check if she got better by the end – it would have been all shades of awkward to find she had killed herself in story. Apparently, even Dr Spencer believed in the power of _true love_ and John eventually left the room with a silly grin plastered to his face.

The need for coffee overruled the need to check on Catherine, so John headed straight to the mess hall. His head still hurt after last night and the bruises hadn't let out yet - he decided to go by the Infirmary later for an aspirin.

He wasn't much surprised when he found everyone already seated in the mess hall. Ronon and Teyla were sitting across from Rodney and Elizabeth, watching in awe as Elizabeth devoured a double breakfast with half a lemon pie on the side, and a large glass of lemonade, while Rodney just stood there, looking dejectedly at the food in front of him, without even complaining _once_ about anything. They were keeping a weary eye on John who was quietly playing with his food, absently drawing with his fork in the plate.

He stood in the doorway for a second, taking in the strange sight. To Ronon and Teyla, still unaware of yesterday's accident, it must have been a stranger sight indeed. Clearly enjoying this more than he probably should have, John walked over to their table with a wide smile that brought out his dimples.

The look Ronon gave him – a mix of admiration and wonder – made him a bit nervous. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to cuten himself up so much.

On the other hand, Catherine wasn't even looking at him, making the effort to dress up rather useless.

Sitting down at the table, he wondered what Ronon would react like if he realized he was ogling John, not Catherine.

With a quick, "Mornin' everyone," he began eating, ignoring their astonished looks.

"Good morning, Dr Spencer," Teyla was the first to speak up. "It is nice to finally have you join us for breakfast."

"Huh?" John said confused.

Catherine, who had found the others simply sitting down at her table as if it were the most natural thing ever, knew what the Athosian was saying – usually, she'd be looking for the most remote seat in the hall to eat by herself. This was too crowded for her taste. And what on earth did he do to her hair? She was grateful she wasn't the direct receiver of Ronon's stares or she might have gone into one of her near-panic attacks. Like this, she could console herself with John's uneasiness and leave her revenge for making her look like Barbie for later.

"Good morning," Ronon finally managed to utter, trying, it seemed, to actually use his fork for once.

Catherine nearly choked, John actually doing so. "Mornin'?" he said shyly.

Rodney could no longer suppress his amusement and everyone turned, surprised to see Elizabeth giggle. "You should have seen that coming," she said breathlessly.

"Ahem," Rodney's voice caught their attention in the stunned silence. "We probably need to clear something up here." There was something in his voice that demanded their attention. "You should probably stop eating now. Especially you, Rodney!" he hissed, looking at Elizabeth. "I was on a diet."

o0o0o

By the time Elizabeth had finished explaining the situation, Ronon and Teyla were twice as confused as they had been at the beginning – Ronon in particular, who kept looking from Catherine to John and back again, still having a hard time accepting that he had been checking John out.

"Why haven't you told anyone about it yesterday?" Teyla asked with the voice of reason.

"We were hoping to have everything back to normal by today and there was no need to cause more confusion than there already was between us," Elizabeth explained. "Not the best possible plan, I'll admit, but after the way things degenerated during the tea incident, we wanted to contain the problem as much as possible."

"That still doesn't explain why you dressed up," Ronon told John.

"It doesn't, does it?" Catherine intervened with a malicious grin.

John looked from one to the other and, before he could reply, his radio cut him off – Catherine was needed in the Infirmary.

"Well? Go," Catherine encouraged him, "I'll tag along in case it's something serious."

Elizabeth nodded and the two took their leave.

In the hallway, Catherine walked by his side in silence, not bringing up his little makeover, which left John both relieved and worried. If there was one thing that story had taught him, it was that he should definitely watch out around her. A lot of small details were starting to add up about her – particularly the thing with the penknife and the Wraith. He made a mental note to take that thing away from her the next time they left on a mission in case she got any other heroic ideas again.

Before they could get to the Infirmary, Lorne's voice called from Catherine's radio. "There's something you should probably see here, sir."

She gave John a questioning look, but quickly enough got a hold of herself. "Where are you, Major?"

"The Hanger Bay."

"I'm on my way," she told him and gave John a resigned look. "Duty calls," she told him. "Call me if there's something you can't handle and watch out for Dr Jonas, he's quite a ladies' man."

The look she gave him frightened him more than the prospect of dealing with the apparently infamous Dr Jonas and he shivered as it dawned on him that she would eventually have her payback.

"Shit!" he muttered under his breath and headed to the Infirmary on his own.

o0o0o

They hadn't talked until evening, each seeing to the other's business with what looked like little trouble on either side.

Surprisingly, John had quickly identified the stray bacteria that had shown up during a set of routine tests – their database was extremely well organized. The staff had been a bit tense to begin with, probably surprised to see Catherine looking less stuffy than she usually did, but they eventually came around and, all in all, it had been a nice working experience. Dr Jonas didn't pose much trouble, probably because of his previous encounters with Catherine and the fear she wouldn't leave him unscarred if he tried anything.

When Catherine walked into the room – without knocking, he might add – he had finally gotten to page 30 of _War and Peace_. She didn't look all too content, but then again, she wasn't used to military life and he could sympathize. She'd probably had a tough day among so many men. Feeling generous, he decided not to tease her about it and regretted his choice the moment she opened her mouth.

"I need a place to sleep," she began abruptly.

"Go to my room?" he suggested.

"And leave you alone with my body all night long? Think again."

Sighing, he set the book down and gave her an amused look. "What do you think I'd do with your body that I couldn't have done already?"

"You mean you're so pressed for imagination?" There was a distinctly threatening undertone beneath her playful teasing.

John sighed. "Come here, then," he offered resigned, scooting over.

She gave him a weary look, studying him from head to toes with an eyebrow raised in suspicion. "Are you trying to hit on me?"

"You mean, am I trying to hit on myself? And you were accusing _me_ of being a pervert!" he chuckled.

"Now you're going to tell me you never... touched yourself?" she pressed.

John nearly chocked laughing. "Do you really want an answer to that? I'd like to point out that I was _in_ that body to begin with."

She sat down next to him, pouting. "You mean your problem is with me being in this body?"

"You know what? I think _I'm_ the one who should be worried about your intentions. If I have to spend the night fighting off your advances to protect my maidenhood, I should probably get myself some coffee first so I can keep guard," he said half-jokingly. He soon tumbled back onto the bed under the weight of a pillow hitting his head. When he looked back up at Catherine, the humour had seeped out of her eyes, but she kept smiling.

"This will not go unpunished!" he proclaimed and threw the pillow back at her with military precision.

o0o0o

As it happened, Stephanie was just wondering past Catherine's room when she heard a familiar voice – a male voice to be more precise – coming from within. She stopped in her tracks with a smug expression on her face. Maybe Sheppard's Girl was on to something, after all.

Her finely tuned ear could make out both John and Dr Spencer's voices and she was inclined to give credit to the person that told her she'd seen Dr Spencer leaving John's room in the morning, probably after spending the night there. It certainly explained her better humour that morning and the relaxed attitude she had encouraged among her staff.

Something was going on and Stephanie took it upon herself to find out what.

o0o0o

_She hadn't been to a church in ages and she could hardly think what she was doing there now or why there were so many people around her. She was sure she didn't know any of them but they all looked familiar for some reason. There was Dave, his brother, and his dad was there as well, looking particularly proud. Still, he couldn't make sense of any of this until he recognized the woman dressed in white coming down the aisle toward him – Nancy, his future wife, was as radiant as ever. Looking at her beautiful face, he wondered if he had taken this step because he loved her or if his father's opinion had had anything to do in it – after all, the old man had wanted to see them married from the moment they had started dating._

_As Nancy walked toward the altar, his sight began to blur and he shut his eyes against the dizzying sight. When he opened them again, he was in a home he vaguely recognized as his childhood home. He had joined the Air Force and had finally gotten the courage to tell his father about it. Considering the outcome, he wished he had never started the discussion. Furious, he stormed out of the house that had always felt suffocating, wishing Dave good luck in his new position as heir to the family business._

Catherine woke up startled, unsure of where she was. It took her a while before she recognized her tiny room in Atlantis, the bed feeling smaller than she remembered. She could make out a sleeping form beside her – her own body, clutching a pillow to her chest as troubled thoughts passed over her face.

The past couple of days washed over her with all their confusion and she realized it had been his memories she'd dreamt of. Worst yet, she had _been_ him.

Her heart began to race. How was that possible? The answer came with the realization that he probably could do the same – the look on his face reminded her of waking up in the middle of the night, screaming, haunted by her ghosts. She wondered which one was responsible for making him look so troubled. Horrified he might learn about certain parts of her past she wanted to forget, she shook him awake and was rewarded with a startled gasp.

John looked bleary-eyed at her, taken back by the fear in her gaze.

"What did you see?" she asked, on the verge of breakdown.

It took a moment for John to process her words and he thought back on the dream. He remembered being frightened and helpless, but he couldn't remember what brought on those feelings. The more he thought back on it, the harder it became to hold on to the scattered images of the nightmare.

He shrugged, staring into her eyes and unable to find his voice.

"Tell me! It's important," she insisted.

"I'm not sure," he shook his head. "It faded the moment you woke me up. You know what dreams are like..."

"It wasn't a dream, it was a damn memory. That's the problem – we're starting to see each other's memories. Can you imagine where this could lead?" She was becoming more and more nervous as she explained.

"How do you know that's what's going on?"

"I saw _her_ ," she explained.

"What _her_?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nancy... the woman in the picture... your wife... I was at the wedding..."

"You were..."

Catherine nodded. She looked shaken, her back pressed against the head of the bed, hugging her knees to her chest.

John ran a hand through his hair, annoyed at how long it was. He wondered what he could do to calm her.

"Come on, my wedding wasn't so traumatizing," he joked. "You should have seen the divorce!" He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and was rewarded with a half-smile. "Rodney must have figured it out by now, anyway, and you'll soon be rid of my disturbing life," he grinned. "And speaking of disturbing," he continued, a horrified look flashing through his eyes. "How far did you get with Rodney?"

"Do you really think this is the right moment to bring something like this up?" she snapped. Honestly, he couldn't be serious for more than a moment at a time.

"What? I don't want to find myself remembering your steamy nights of passion!" he defended himself. Curiously enough, he sounded downright terrified at the perspective.

"We'd be even, then," she assured him, letting his imagination fill in the blanks. She just _had_ to wonder who he was filling those blanks with.

John had a moment of doubt before grabbing his radio and calling Rodney. "Rodney, we have a problem."

"No shit, Sherlock. How did you figure it out?" Rodney snapped at him. "I've been staring at these controls for half an hour and I have no clue how they work, while Elizabeth has been buzzing around all night, tweaking and setting parameters I can't remember ever knowing about! This is freaky!" John could hear him mutter something, probably to Elizabeth, before continuing, "This is what I call a problem. What's yours?"

"Your love life," John said flatly, looking straight at Catherine who ignored him.

Before Rodney could say anything else, Elizabeth grabbed his radio and cut in. "If you think you've got problems, I dreamt I was being chased by a giant, killer lemon from hell. It had fangs! A lemon with fangs! And I'm starting to sound like Rodney!"

Rodney managed to get the radio back and complained, "Now you know what I go through on a nightly basis."'

"I get it, we're getting messed up, but are you any closer to a solution?" John insisted.

Elizabeth cut in again. "It gets worse. I talked to Dr Heightmeyer about this and she said it might become permanent. The longer we spend in each other's body, the more attached we get to it – we gain access to the other's memories, feelings and knowledge, while we start losing our own. Eventually, we wouldn't be ourselves anymore, but enough of the host would be lost as well."

"Did you talk to Zelenka about this?" John asked, putting his last hopes in the Czech.

"That's the worst part," Rodney mumbled. "He said he's been working on it all along. The nerve!"

"Look," Catherine finally joined in the discussion. "If he's working on this as well, we might just get back to our old selves today. Now, I suggest we go to the Infirmary and run some scans to make sure the physical part of our brains is working properly."

There was a long silence, punctuated by static.

"What are you doing with John at this hour?" Rodney eventually asked.

"Don't get any funny ideas. It would be like making out with myself!" she growled before grabbing John and pushing him toward the door.

o0o0o

On their way to the Infirmary, John was shocked to find two marines stop in their tracks to give his body a proper salute. He was almost tempted to answer to it – which Catherine did promptly, to his great shock. In the Infirmary, it had been Catherine's turn for a shock – her nurses and fellow doctors were fussing around John, cheerful and friendly and with offers of coffee – weren't _they_ supposed to be the ones with the switched personalities? Thankfully, she was still enough of herself to help John make out the results of their EEGs. Everything looked alright on the physical side, but she couldn't shake the worry that something might go wrong before they could get back.

She was about to suggest they stay under medical surveillance – something a certain blonde nurse seemed to be eagerly awaiting – when Ronon showed up. Catherine hoped he was bringing news from Rodney, because she couldn't stand another minute in a body that instinctively focused on Stephanie's curves. With great effort, she took her eyes out of the nurse's cleavage, hoping no one noticed her fluster.

"You should take your radio with you," Ronon was saying and she could see John behind him chuckling. "Elizabeth sent me after the two of you when they couldn't reach you by radio. It looks like Zelenka made a breakthrough."

"Finally!" John said, earning a confused look from Stephanie. "What are we waiting for?" he asked when Catherine didn't show signs she'd heard the news.

She was staring straight at Ronon, a grin spreading across her face. "There's something I need to do first," she said, walking toward the tall warrior. There was a mischievous gleam in her eyes as she reached up and circled her arms around his neck.

o0o0o

Wide-eyed, Stephanie watched on enraptured as John stood on his toes and pressed his lips to Ronon's, stunning the warrior into silence with the unexpected turn of events. The kiss was short, but full of passion, sending shivers down both the men's bodies as intense as the ones she was feeling just by watching them.

The look of shock on Catherine's face told her the woman wasn't used to such public displays of affection. Maybe she was upset at John for pulling something like this on her after their passionate night together. The wheels in Stephanie's mind were turning, absorbing every detail to incorporate it later in her stories.

When John pulled away, he gave a quick look to Catherine, then returned to Ronon. "Now, we're even," he said grinning and walking out of the Infirmary.

Stephanie was frantically trying to figure out who had been the one to cheat first in this polyamorous relationship.

o0o0o

All the way across the city, neither John, nor Ronon could shake the feeling that Catherine, walking ahead of them, was sniggering at their expense. Not only that, but they were incapable of looking each other in the eye, too shocked by the... _incident_. They weren't going to call it a kiss – that was an unspoken agreement. They didn't even want to think back on it. They could only be grateful the blonde nurse had been the only witness.

When they finally reached the doors of the laboratory, Ronon had gathered enough of his wits to confront the evil woman.

"Even for what?" he asked, grabbing her hand and turning her to face them.

"Well, you were all too happy to be checking me out this morning," she said with a smile. "I thought you'd like to get further." She walked toward John, picking up and twirling one of his curls on her finger. "By the way, I love your curls this morning. What did I say about being cute?"

John batted his eyelashes and looked her in the eyes. "That it's natural for you?"

Catherine groaned and walked into the room ahead of them. The two men were left swallowing the hard lumps in their throats. They would demand payback, but they feared what other devious plans to get back at them she might devise. After all, there was still untested technology in Atlantis and she was friends with Rodney.

o0o0o

Elizabeth, finally back in her own body, stared gleefully at Rodney. "It worked!" In her excitement to be back, she nearly hugged him but she was cut off by Zelenka who had just walked in.

"So?" he asked.

"Great job!" Elizabeth congratulated him, still high with excitement. Hopefully, she hadn't spent enough time in Rodney's body to be plagued by demonic lemons in her dreams for ever.

"Yeah," muttered Rodney. "Great job finding the instructions. I never would have thought of that." His voice was dripping with sarcasm and he found himself on the receiving end of a surprisingly strong slap on the back of his head delivered by Elizabeth, who seemed to have retained some of his short temper.

"You didn't," she reminded him.

If Zelenka was shocked to see them behave like that, he didn't let on, instead going over to the device and preparing it for the next transfer session.

Catherine arrived just in time to see Elizabeth and Rodney still out of character enough to be disturbing, grinning like mad. "Did it work?" she asked worriedly.

"Don't worry," Elizabeth assured her. "I won't be looking at another lemon any time soon, but I'm back to myself and, hopefully, Rodney's influence will wear off in a couple more days."

Rodney looked hurt by her observation, but decided not to comment.

Catherine watched them a little longer before turning to Zelenka. "What do we need to do?"

The scientist flicked on one more switch. "You turn it on and wait, that's it. I've programmed everything – I got Miranda to translate the instructions." He stopped to let Rodney mutter in the background something about instructions. "You need to be alone in the room. I didn't figure out how to work it for multiple subjects just yet, but it should be safe with just two consciousnesses. From what I've read, it was used in interrogations, with one person going into the mind of another to gather all possible information. This means that there was probably some sort of shielding to keep the transfer one way, but I didn't get the chance to work that out yet. We just need to wait for John to turn up and I'll leave the two of you alone."

"He'll be here in a moment," she assured him and, indeed, John walked in seconds after.

"You need to switch this on," Zelenka instructed, ushering everyone else out of the room – they needed to get to a safe distance before the device was switched on to prevent accidents.

Alone with the device, Catherine turned to John with a smile. "Any last thoughts?"

"I was beginning to like this body," he grinned, pushing the switch.

 


	8. Episode 8 - Frozen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The inevitable gratuitous hypothermia chapter :P

**Episode 8 - Frozen**

 

“A bit… a bit…more…” she demanded in an imperative voice.

“How much longer do you think I can last?” It was all her fault – had she listened and tried it an hour earlier, they might have even gotten somewhere.

“Well… you can’t leave me hanging half-way!”

“I’d’ve been done by now!” he complained.

“I bet you would.”

“Maybe if I push a little…”

“Ouch! Not _there!”_

“You’re heavier than you think,” he said in a strained voice. The woman was draining him.

“It didn’t stop you last time,” she bit.

“That was different!”

“Sure it was – I didn’t ask you to do it.”

“So this is my fault now?”

“It always is! And how many times do I have to tell you? _Not there!_ ”

“ _Fine_!” His hands moved lower on her bottom. “Better now?”

“If you have suicidal tendencies, yes!”

He moved his hands into a better position and pushed again, harder.

“How about now?”

“That’s it! Almost there…”

He gave another thrust, fighting against the trembling growing in his body.

Catherine could feel him shivering and she knew they were probably setting a rhythm. The tips of her fingers touched the rim and excitement welled up within her. It was always best to do it yourself and this proved it again. It was incredibly slippery and, a few tries later, she decided to take off the gloves and try again.

“Hey!” John protested when the aforementioned gloves hit his face. “What was that for?”

“Earlier,” she said simply.

He looked up at her in honest confusion. “What earlier?”

“My… Just _earlier_! OK? If you can’t remember it, why bother?” she answered with mounting annoyance.

Even without the gloves, she found her effort just as pointless – the slippery edges were too much of a challenge for her already numb fingers. It was times like these she pondered on the advantages of long nails, but she was never a fan of those and, aside from digging them in when in tight spots, she couldn’t really see their appeal. It was amazing how her mind wondered when she needed to focus most.

“Try not to shift so much,” he warned the distracted Catherine in his arms. “It’s hard enough to hold you as it is.”

Despite his warnings, she shifted again and he had to tighten his grip on her thigh, less she fell over. Then it hit him like another pair of gloves. “Earlier…” he said aloud, hiding the rest of that thought behind a knowing smile.

“Grow up!” she hissed, reaching out for the edge of the pit again. If she could get a grip this time, they would be out and she wouldn’t have to deal with his presence any further.

“I’m sorry,” he said with amusement. “I didn’t think you’d take offence at my trying not to let you drop on your head.”

She could hear the smirk in his voice. And she knew where his eyes were resting. Oh, yes. She hadn’t thought about it before, because she was too busy trying to get a grip on the edge of the damn hole, but she knew he was probably enjoying the view down there a bit more than he should. With a furious hiss, she swung around, abandoning her hunt for an elusive ledge in favour of swatting him over his presumptuous head.

Taken by surprise, John lost his grip on her and, before she could land her blow, they both toppled over. With a muffled thud, his head hit the frozen floor at an unreasonable speed, almost rendering him unconscious. It didn’t help that Catherine landed on him, knocking the air out of his lungs. The world started spinning and multiplying until it became painful to keep his eyes open. He could feel being shook and hear the panic rise in an undistinguishable female voice, but it took him a few good moments to recognize it as Catherine’s.

When he opened his eyes, he was greeted by the sight of three Catherines somehow perched on his chest, melting into one as the mist cleared from his vision. Now that there was only one of her to deal with, a second problem popped up and he could almost kick himself for thinking up such a lame pun. It was a bit hard not to, considering her position – she was currently more or less straddling his chest, her feet sprawled on either side of him and her face too close to his for such things to be thought of in safety. He swallowed the lump in his throat and tried pointing out this situation in the most polite, eloquent way he could muster. All he managed to say was “Um…”

“Thank God you’re alright!” she squeed with relief. “My kit is still up there,” she offered by way of explanation, almost hugging him in the process.

Her innocence was disarming. It was almost enough to forgive her for earlier. _Earlier_ was beginning to take on dangerous connotations in their interactions. He needed to remember not to bring up _earlier_ in future conversations.

It was this innocence that prompted him to make the next great mistake that would prove another entry in the category of _earlier_ – he felt it necessary to point out their situation before he got the chance to enjoy it too much. He cleared his throat and spoke “Not that I don’t like a woman on top…” Already he could see anger seeping back into her eyes. “…nor that I wouldn’t be enjoying the view…” and another nail was placed in his coffin, “…but you wouldn’t be my first choice if this were my fantasy,” he finished.

Here, he finally made it clear he wasn’t hitting on her. Not under these circumstances. He wasn’t the kind of guy to take advantage of her concern.

Maybe it was the headache, but it seemed his message didn’t quite get across the way he’d wished it. First of all, there was a distinct lack of banter. Secondly, the way Catherine looked at him before carefully climbing off of him was colder than the snow. Thirdly, the only comment she made was an awkward “Oh, I see…” He tried thinking back to exactly what it was that he said, or how he said it, but the headache was making it impossible so he had no idea how he had hurt her this time.

“What did I say?” he tried, miserably.

She didn’t even look at him and started searching for her discarded gloves. She was so busy ignoring him, that she didn’t even notice the one lying by his side.

“Here,” he said, offering the ignored glove to her. She took it wordlessly and went to sit across from him.

Back to square one.

 

**Ten hours _earlier_**

“Wait here for me,” Teyla instructed the restless Halling before going into Elizabeth’s office. The tall Athosian man had brought urgent news which the leader of the expedition needed to be informed of before any action could be taken, so Teyla wasted no time in getting him there. On her part, Elizabeth was reluctant to put aside the monthly report she had been compiling to listen to rumours, but Teyla was always welcome and she wouldn’t waste her time with idle prattle.

“Teyla, come in,” she greeted with a smile. “Is anything wrong?”

The Athosian hesitated. “Actually, it’s Halling. He has news I think you should hear.”

Elizabeth set aside the laptop and rose to her feet. “Invite him in, then.”

o0o0o

“P3X – G24? Wasn’t it that planet with the farming villages?” John asked. Most of the planets they encountered fit that description, but it was one of the few worlds with a population larger than 10,000.

“It’s the one with the incredibly harsh winters, short summers and incredibly productive green houses, actually,” Elizabeth corrected him. “But it is one of the few densely populated planets that aren’t trying to destroy us and they are relying on our support,” she added, looking more worried than usual. She wasn’t advertising her listlessness, but, if you knew what to look for, you could tell that it was there, under the weary calm she displayed ostensively.

“And you’re sure it might be the same virus-bacteria-whatever that we caught the last time?” he insisted incredulous. Halling may be a reliable witness, but he wasn’t an expert and, from what they’ve experienced first hand with it, the symptoms were too common and varied to tell them from other afflictions without proper tests.

“He didn’t know what had caused the outbreak, but he described the situation and Dr Spencer seems to believe the symptoms match those caused by our little ‘friend’,” Elizabeth explained.

“You mean ‘everything but the kitchen sink’?”

Elizabeth cocked an eyebrow at his joke, but decided not to encourage him by commenting. “Pretty much so. She has already put Halling under medical supervision and administered him another dose of the vaccine – she isn’t sure if the effects were permanent or not. She has also asked me to tell you no one is to set foot through the gate on this mission without going to the infirmary for a new vaccine session,” she finished.

“Is it just me, or is she enjoying her power over me a bit too much?”

Elizabeth had no idea how to take that last comment. There seemed to be an odd mix of animosity and what could almost pass for attraction between those two and she still hadn’t found out all that had passed between them during the body-switch incident. Admittedly, no one knew everything that had passed between her and Rodney either, but that was a whole different matter. “I doubt it’s just about the two of you,” she said reassuringly. “She can’t possibly be that childish.”

John waved the notion away on his way out. “You have no idea.”

o0o0o

The infirmary was still rather crowded when John finally made his way there. He had hoped to postpone a confrontation with his own, personal pest until after he returned from the mission – he wasn’t going to insist on her presence after how things had turned out the last few times – but there was nothing he could do about it. True, he didn’t much care to go through the whole near-death experience again, so he was now awaiting his turn to get vaccinated.

He stood in line for someone to become available, when he noticed Catherine was free. Sure, she wasn’t really supposed to handle the inoculating process and she was fussing around her computer, but she probably wouldn’t mind sticking a needle into his arm with that sadistic glee he knew she felt whenever she inflicted the least amount of pain on him. There was a word for what he was about to do and that word was “masochism.” Nonetheless, he turned away from the blonde nurse that had just finished with Teyla and was now giving him sweet looks and headed for the heavy-handed, ruthless head of the medical staff and offered her his hand… his arm, really, but it would hurt just as much regardless where she’d stick him.

“Already done?” she asked cheerily as soon as she noticed him approaching.

The dimples in her cheeks and the innocent look in her blue eyes could trick anyone into a false sense of security, but John knew better. Rolling up his sleeve, he gave her _the_ half-smile he had learned she hated so much “Actually, I was thinking to brighten your day. I’ve noticed you have a thing for sticking me with needles every chance you get.” He was about to make a tasteless joke, but her raised eyebrow warned him against it.

As expected, she wasn’t one to miss such a chance. “Back for more already?” she asked, already preparing the injection. John could swear the needle was twice the size of the other ones, but bravely struck out his arm and clenched his teeth in anticipation. It was as much satisfaction as he was going to offer.

When she stuck the needle into his arm, her eyes were fixed on his face, daring him to show the slightest sign of weakness. No one believed him when he complained about her heavy-hand, but there was a good reason why he never willingly submitted himself to her ministrations. Never willingly, but he always seemed to end up in her care.

They kept eye contact long after the needle was pulled out, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of their lips. Someone who didn’t know them better might have mistaken their behaviour for flirting. The blonde nurse certainly felt a certain complicity between them and hoped their pairing wouldn’t become canon.

o0o0o

P3X – G24 was one of the few planets in the Pegasus Galaxy with winter conditions nearly all year round. Surprisingly enough, it was one of the more densely populated planets, its inhabitants taking great pride in their ability to brave the elements rather than moving to a more hospitable planet.

Catherine was hurrying down the hallways, on her way to the science lab, after failing to find anyone remotely close to her size to borrow a winter coat from. Who would have thought after reading the reports, that there would be winter in Pegasus? At most, she could remember someone mentioning something close to autumn, but never winter, never snow and never to the extent of a whole planet in the middle of an ice age. What was worse, Teyla, the one person that was nearest to her size, was nowhere to be found. This left the petite, thick-rimmed glasses wearing Japanese woman from Rodney’s department as the only alternative – all of her nurses seemed at least three sizes larger than herself and she had little to do with anyone else on the base.

She walked into the lab with a twinge of guilt in her heart. She had avoided Rodney and all involved in the body-switch incident – except for Elizabeth, who had had it as bad as her – and hadn’t replied to a couple of his messages yet. It was ironic how they ended up communicating by e-mail when they were working a stone-throw away from each other. Then again, Rodney was the kind that would use instant messaging with someone in the same room.

“Hi,” she said awkwardly to the room in general, disappointed that Miko wasn’t there.

Rodney stopped whatever it was he had been doing and raised his eyes from the computer to look at her. “Hi,” he answered in the same awkward tone, surprised to see her.

“I was looking for Miko,” she explained, stopping in front of Rodney’s desk. “I was wondering if she could let me borrow some winter clothes…”

Rodney looked surprised. “I didn’t know you were going to P3X – G24. Elizabeth told me you were busy.”

“I was, but this looks too serious not to go there myself.”

“Well… I could… I could have… if you had told me, I mean…” he stammered, trying to say he would have come along if he knew she was going, even if he hated winter with a passion and wasn’t a great fan of epidemics either.

Catherine watched him intently, waiting for the conclusion. Before she could learn what sacrifices he would have been willing to make, however, the door opened to let in Miko and a tray of coffee mugs. The woman was beaming, much too cheerful for someone with a Ph D that had been mistaken for a secretary – and the nurses called _Catherine_ a slave driver!

“Catherine!” the woman called, setting the tray down. She was one of the few people on Atlantis who genuinely seemed to like her, but that wasn’t saying much since Miko liked most everybody. “I didn’t get you a coffee, but you can have mine,” she offered. “I already had five.”

“It’s barely 10 in the morning.”

“Oh, we’ve been working since last night,” the other woman explained cheerfully.

“Actually, I’ve been up for two nights now,” Rodney offered, trying to outshine her. “Have you seen Zelenka, yet? I think he overslept.”

Miko pursed her lips and handed him his sixth coffee since midnight. “He left an hour ago. He’d been up since Tuesday and he can’t make any progress unless you tell him what exactly you’re trying to do.”

“That’s not much of a surprise, is it?” Rodney scoffed, already forgetting about Catherine’s presence.

Miko ignored him and turned to the obviously anxious Catherine. “You’re not here for the technical stuff, anyway. I hear they’re doing the blue jelly for desert today,” she hinted.

Behind her, Rodney set his coffee down and looked interested. “I should hurry,” he said, earning a pair of strange looks from the two women. “The stress is already working hell on my blood sugar,” he explained, completely oblivious to Miko’s attempts to play Cupid.

On his way out, he stopped and turned to Catherine. “…take care out there,” he said, worry seeping through his tiredness.

o0o0o

By the time she reached the control room, dressed in Miko’s winter gear – a bit tight even on _her_ chest – the rest of the medical expedition was already before the Gate, ready for departure. She scanned the room for John who was standing by the Gate and had yet to notice her. With a mischievous smile, she headed toward him, zipping the coat up with force. Why did the only woman she could borrow a coat from have to be flat-chested?

She managed to reach John without him noticing her, too busy directing people through the Gate. She tapped him lightly on the shoulder and enjoyed the look of shock in his eyes as he turned and recognized her.

“What are you doing here?” he asked abruptly.

“What do you think?”

“You’re not exactly the first to volunteer for off-world missions. How did they get you?” He actually managed to sound disappointed.

“Now it’s a bad thing to own up to my responsibilities?” she asked innocently. “Weren’t you the one who practically dragged me through the Gate the first time?”

He cocked an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything else – they did need all the medical staff available for this mission and it was true he had set himself up for this one. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling there was something more that needed to be said before stepping through the Gate. As the last nurse departed, followed by Lorne, Catherine was already heading off after them and it hit him.

Holding out his hand, he told her “Hand it over!”

She looked confused as she turned back to face him. “What?”

“You know what I mean. The pen-knife, hand it over!”

“No.”

“You’re a danger to yourself with that thing. Hand it over, least you try stabbing a Wraith with it again,” he explained, determined not to let her dig herself into another corner by foolishly using that thing for self defence.

“I think that, as a doctor, I have more experience wilding sharp objects than you give me credit for,” she cut.

“I give you credit, believe me. That tongue of yours is probably the sharpest thing in your arsenal.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t want to put that to the test,” she warned.

If he didn’t know she was doing this just to get away with keeping the damn thing on the mission, he might have thought she was even flirting with him.

Neither of them noticed Elizabeth watching from the balcony. She was studying their exchange, wondering if she should step in or not. Eventually, she decided it was best not to.

“Will you give me the damn thing, already!” His patience was running thin. “Or do I just leave you here?”

“You wouldn’t.” Her voice betrayed her lack of conviction.

“I will. I can’t let you endanger everyone with your misguided heroics!”

“Look who’s talking,” she retorted, eyeing him with a murderous look.

Elizabeth decided it was about time to cut in when the tension became almost palpable. Everyone else seemed to have found a number of interesting sights away from the two, purposefully avoiding to look at them. This only served to increase the awkward vibe they gave off.

“Is anything wrong?” she asked, climbing down the stairs.

“Catherine?” John offered her a last chance, wiggling his outstretched fingers for emphasis.

Feeling cornered, Catherine dug into her pocket for the infamous pen-knife and almost threw it into his hand. “Fine!” she conceded, clearly convinced he was trying to make a point, rather than worry about her safety. Just one more stunt to prove his authority.

He shoved the knife into one of his pockets, ignoring Catherine’s childish outburst. “Now we’re ready to go,” he assured Elizabeth and offered Catherine the chance to go first through the Gate, like a gentleman should.

o0o0o

The last villager made his way into the improvised Infirmary, marking the end of a long, tiring day’s work. With a bit of planning and the help of the village leader, they had managed to get everyone vaccinated and out of harm’s way in under a day, but there were still teams out in the other villages. The last team had only just reported their arrival in the farthest village before night fall.

Visibly tired, Catherine had lost track of all the people sitting before her that day. She barely took notice of the one sitting before her now – only vaguely noting it was a woman when she had to roll her sleeve up. Truth be told, with the perpetual cold on the planet, they were all dressed the same – thick, woollen clothes and even thicker furs on top, keeping their wearers warm and the air thick with a heavy, musky smell. She had slowly grown accustomed to the smell, the same way she had grown accustomed to the villagers, blending shapelessly into one another in her mind, addled with lack of sleep and food.

She thought she remembered someone saying something about food, but it had been hours since and she couldn’t be sure who it was or what it was they had told her. It might have been lunch or breakfast. They might have been asking her to cook for all she cared. It was hard enough to wait in the Infirmary, with a cosy fire, for her patients to come to her, than drag her medical kit from house to house if they waited for them to be bed ridden. Besides, the last thing she wished for was to go through her first encounter with the mystery virus all over again.

Throwing the used needle in the box, she turned to her patient. “How many are there still waiting?”

The woman smiled awkwardly and shrugged. “I was the last one. You seem tired, Doctor. Come with me, the Elders have prepared a house for you to spend the night in.”

She spoke with awe of the idea of an entire house being cleared for the strangers. It was a great sign of respect, considering this meant squeezing two families in one house for the night – but it was the least they could do in return for their help and they were well accustomed with sharing the same roof against the cold.

“Thank you,” Catherine answered absently. From what she could see around here, a “house” was barely larger than her room on Atlantis with a massive stove taking up a quarter of the space – it made heating easier and she’d feel almost at home in the crammed space. The one thought that took over once that Math was done was to burry herself under warm blankets, next to the stove and sleep the night away. “I gather the Colonel has been given one as well…” she not quite asked with forced indifference.

The woman looked at her as if she grew another head. “I meant for the two of you,” she said hesitantly.

“Come again?” Catherine asked. “We’re… we’re not a couple.”

“I do not see what this has to do with anything. You have a _whole_ house at your disposal,” the woman explained in disbelief. She shared a house with her husband, two children and her first husband’s second cousin and his wife and still felt comfortable receiving guests. These strangers were indeed strange.

“Where I come from… the customs… it’s just not right for…” Catherine muttered while gathering her equipment. “Can’t I talk to the Elders? I’m sure they’ll understand my situation.”

She shut her kit with a loud clank and hurriedly put on her jacket. It seemed to have grown tighter since the morning and the worst part – hurrying out the door in a fury, she had gotten the zipper stuck and now felt the freezing air hitting her lungs. The more she struggled to unzip it, she only managed to make it worse. Besides, she could swear there were -100o, this was friggin’ Antarctica – John could argue until Hell caught up with this place!

The woman followed her outside, pulling the furs tighter around her. She caught up with her before the doctor could get lost in the snow. “Your companion is waiting in the tavern over there,” the woman pointed, “and I believe the Elders are still there with him. You can make your… objection there,” she tried to reason.

Taking in a deep breath – which she instantly regretted – Catherine headed for the house the woman had pointed out – it was a sort of Lilliputian bar judging by the voices and muddled singing coming from inside. The only experience she had with John and alcohol was with him in her skin, ridiculously drunk after a few pulls of beer (a sight that she would never admit in public to finding ridiculously cute). Still, she went in fearing she would find him embarrass himself before the aforementioned Elders, with a stiff drink by his side to fight off the cold – a bad idea, but increasingly tempting as the winds bit at her cheeks.

The heavy smell of furs hit her with the warm air inside when she opened the doors, making her happy she hadn’t yet eaten. Once her eyes cleared, she was relieved to see John was not accompanied by a stiff drink and, as far as she knew, wasn’t acting particularly drunk. She was even more surprised to see no one in the room actually fit her idea of “Elder”, but they could have already left.

John was talking quietly with a woman, about the same age as Elizabeth and possibly attractive under all those furs. Not that it concerned her, but they seemed a bit too absorbed in the conversation – so absorbed in fact, that he didn’t even notice Catherine walk up behind him until she was one step behind him and cleared her throat.

“I see you heard about our accommodations,” he said cheerfully, turning around. She had ignored him all day. He suspected she was acting childish because of the knife, so he let her have her little moment. Having to spend the night together sounded like a blessing – at least she couldn’t possibly avoid a serious discussion this time. Somehow, he had convinced himself that it was the only reason he found the perspective appealing.

“Don’t get too cosy with the idea,” Catherine cut. “I have no intention to share a bed with you any time soon and I certainly don’t intend to have a heart to heart conversation – I need to sleep!”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” he said innocently. “And don’t forget, I know you inside and out.”

The suspicious look the woman next to him gave them made Catherine blush furiously and John stuttered as he tried to back out of the corner he had painted himself into. “Not… not like that. Oh! You know what I meant, Catherine.”

Of course she knew what he meant. It was hard to erase the memory of the night they had spent together in each other’s body in the most disturbing sense possible. She still had nightmares about it. She wasn’t going to debate it before an audience.

“I need to talk to the Elders,” Catherine changed to topic swiftly.

“You’re in luck. Madranne here is one of them,” John pointed smugly to the woman he had been talking to before.

“And you’ve explained about our… customs?” Catherine insisted, one eyebrow raised. She could hardly believe this woman was an Elder.

“The Colonel has told us you might object,” Madranne said amiably. “If your customs don’t allow this, may I invite you, John, to be a guest in my house? It’s just me and my sisters, I’m afraid, since our brother…”

John moved his eyes from Catherine to Madranne. Sure, it would have been a good opportunity to have a talk with his favourite medic, but he wasn’t going to beg and it wouldn’t have been very productive with her in such a foul mood. “Sisters?” he asked, slightly worried considering the customs around these parts – five wouldn’t have surprised him and an elderly aunt that snored like a hippo.

“My two younger sisters,” Madranne explained. “I’m sure they’ll welcome the company.”

Something clicked in Catherine’s subconscious, but it took a while for the though to reach the surface. John was much too excited at the prospect of spending the night with this _Elder_ and her _younger_ sisters. It didn’t affect her directly, not really, not at all, but… “And your brother?” she found herself asking. She didn’t want to know, she should be heading off to bed. Alone. The way she had intended.

“My brother took his wife and daughters away to the caves when the sickness began,” the woman explained.

“What caves?” Catherine asked automatically.

“A few families made off to the caves when the first symptoms appeared – they wanted to keep their children safe.”

That simple answer washed away Catherine’s tiredness like a cold shower. She was burning with cold anger. “And _no one_ thought to tell me?”

John could hear her anger – not the one on the surface, the deeper one, the one fuelled by fear of a lost cause. “How many people left the village?” he joined the questioning.

Madranne shrugged. “Twenty or so. But they’re safe! They left before they caught the sickness.”

“The sickness is contagious long before you develop the symptoms! You’d have found them dead in those caves come spring!” Catherine ran a hand through her hair, her patience withering away by the second.

“How far are these caves?” John brought up the reasonable question. “We’ll go there in the morning, after we report back.”

“We can’t _wait_ till morning!” Catherine sighed. “We need to get there tonight! _I_ need to get there tonight! It’s my responsibility and I won’t risk their lives for a good night’s sleep.” She sounded tired, but determined.

It was John’s turn to sigh. “We need directions first and we need to get there in one piece. I suggest we go to sleep now and set out for the caves in the morning. Preferably, with a guide,” he tried to reason with her.

“You can honour your invitation, Colonel,” she said in a deceivingly flat voice. “Please understand, though, that I have to go. I have an excellent sense of direction – it’s enough to point me in the right way and I’ll get there in no time. I’ll have you know, I also graduated an online girl scout training course when I was in high school.” She hoped her voice sounded a lot more convincing than she felt and that her chin pointed out at the right angle to prove her certainty. She also hoped he couldn’t tell how disappointed she was that he wasn’t coming with her.

“Are you telling me that my brother and his family, along with all the people with them, are in as much danger as if they stayed?” Madranne asked, her voice trembling with worry.

“As a matter of fact, I’d say they’re in worse danger. Who knows what state they’re in out there? At least here they wouldn’t be so exposed to the elements and we would have gotten word in time if any had developed symptoms.”

“My people are used to the cold.”

“It’s not the cold I’m worried about, not if they weren’t infected.” The thought of having to explain how the virus worked while there were people out there that probably needed her help was sickening her. “Where were those caves?” she cut to what she considered the point.

“I thought we agreed to wait until morning,” John tried to dissuade her.

“We only agreed you could stay. Where are those caves?” Catherine insisted.

“About five miles towards the mountains,” Madranne explained, concerned for her brother. “You can at least wait until we can find a guide for you. Besides, you need to put on another coat – the nights here are quite cold.”

A fur coat was exactly what Catherine needed at the moment – if the cold didn’t get to her before she reached the caves, the smell certainly would. “No, thanks. I don’t think I can spare the time to wait for a guide. It’s caves, how hard to find can they be?”

John rolled his eyes at her naïveté. “Harder than you’d think.” She was already half-way to the door before he could say anything else. “Have fun!” he quipped before she shut the door behind her. “She really did walk out in a huff, without a guide and no clue where she’s going, hasn’t she?” he asked bewildered, turning to Madranne.

“How do you put up with her?” the Elder asked, shaking her head.

“It’s a full-time job,” he said, still hoping Catherine would change her mind once the cold bit at her skin again.

“Shouldn’t we send someone for her?”

John sighed. “She’s coming back. She didn’t even zip her coat up properly.” He could already feel the pang of guilt for letting her walk out into the frozen night like that and he knew she was too stubborn to come back. “I think I’ll have one of those coats,” he said, keeping an eye on the door. “It would be boring to spend the night alone in the house and, as grateful as I am for your hospitality,” he said, putting on a thick fur coat Madranne offered him, “I need to make sure she doesn’t kill herself by accident tonight.”

“Take care out there!” the woman called as he ran out the doors into the night after his foolish companion.

o0o0o

The snow-fall had turned into a full blown blizzard before she made it out of the village, but Catherine kept stubbornly heading towards to mountains and those… villagers that had the poor inspiration to hide away during an epidemic – like the feudal lords in the Dark Ages, hiding from the plague only to help it spread further.

At least John didn’t let her down. He stayed behind with his host, adding another conquer to his long-standing list. He was supposed to be watching over _her_ , but it wasn’t the first time he left her on her own.

She tried to gather the sides of her coat to her chest in a futile attempt to hold off the cold, but to no avail. Her fingers were growing numb inside her gloves and she was starting to think she might have been a bit rash in refusing the fur. Considering her nose was close to dropping off her face in a frozen icicle, the smell would have been the least of her problems.

“It’s all your fault, John Sheppard!” she muttered, venting her anger on the one person she knew probably deserved it regardless what he did. He should have stopped her before she got out that door, yell a bit of sense into her, the way he usually did, but he didn’t even move a muscle! He was better entertained by the not so old Elder! “You wouldn’t even care if I froze to death out here!” she continued just to hear her own voice. “You’d probably even say I was looking for it!” And she was, but she had no clue what “it” was.

The wind was blowing harder, the snow blinding her. She wanted to turn back, but there was something more important than her pride urging her on – she _was_ responsible for the lives of those poor bastards. She couldn’t let them die because they had been foolish enough to think the sickness didn’t spread until the symptoms appeared. She had no way of knowing if they could still be saved until she actually saw them, but she could still hope.

She knew it was foolish to hope, especially with the memories of those first victims still haunting her, but if she didn’t she could as well pack her bags and leave back for Earth. It would have been so easy to run away before she got hurt again – she had become so good at that over the years – run away before she got too involved, run before she could feel responsible, before she could get attached. She didn’t belong anywhere, come to think of it. She had managed to drive herself away from everywhere. And now? Now she got herself lost!

She looked around startled. She could barely see a few feet in front of her and all she could see was snow; snow, snow and more snow – no mountains, no village, definitely no caves and a huge, hairy thing heading right for her. It was already too close for her to run from it, but she still tried. Her heart was racing as she sprinted a couple of paces and tumbled into the thick snow. Keeping her eyes on the figure now towering above her, she frantically searched her pockets for the knife she too late remembered had been taken away.

o0o0o

John had almost caught up with her just outside the village, but he decided to stay a short distance behind her in case she came to her senses. She didn’t. As he followed her for what seamed like a few miles, he mentally went through the lecture he was going to give her. She really needed to get her priorities straight and she wouldn’t help anyone by killing herself. And walking out into a snow storm, in a fit of pique, definitely counted as suicide.

Before he could reach her, she spotted him and tried to run, only to fall down a couple of paces later. He hurried toward her to check if she was fine, but she just stared at him in utter horror, frantically searching her pockets for that damn knife, probably. Despite his strange attire, he should have been close enough for her to recognize him.

“It’s alright. It’s me, Catherine,” he said soothingly, holding out a hand for her to pull her out of the snow. “Are you-?”

Before he could finish, Catherine had her arms around his neck, embracing him almost unconsciously. He stared down at her for a moment, completely forgetting the lecture he was going to give her, and eventually returned the embrace.

“You’re freezing!” he finally noticed the obvious.

Before she could react, he released her from his arms and took off his fur coat. “Here,” he offered, already wrapping her in the fur. He didn’t think her stupid enough to protest this time, but he had a few good retorts ready just in case.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“Are you sure you don’t want to wait till morning?” he asked her and she nodded.

“I wasn’t being unreasonable, John. They really are in danger.”

John sighed and pointed her in the right direction, walking at her side, matching her silence. A few steps later, he felt her hand searching for his and he took it. She wasn’t looking at him. A few more steps and he could feel her holding on tighter. She was still silent, so he didn’t say anything.

There was something about her he knew he was supposed to decipher and he had been given a clue – problem was, he still didn’t know what he was supposed to decipher and what the clue had been.

They walked on in silence for a little while, but it was a comfortable silence as they were both immersed in thoughts of the situation and of each other. They managed to hold on to this state for about a mile before Catherine stopped, pulling John to a halt as well. She had put up a brave fight against the cold, but the fur, insulating as it was, didn’t actually cover her chest and she had yet to zip up her coat.

“What is it?” he asked when she eventually pulled her hand out of his.

“Nothing. This damn zipper’s still stuck and I’m freezing,” she said, taking off the fur to move with more ease.

She tugged furiously on the zipper again without any progress.

“Let me help,” he offered, expecting her to refuse.

“If you think you’ll have better luck, be my guest,” she said, lifting her arms in mock surrender.

He tried unzipping and pulling it back up, but it still didn’t work. It was caught on the inner lining.

“If you could hold this for me…” he said giving her the flashlight – it would be easier to work with his hands free and a bit of light would be welcomed. He needed to get the lining out of the way first, so he pushed it back with his index finger and held it in place. It then occurred to him just how tight the coat was on the young woman – he could barely keep a tight grip in the fabric without touching her chest. His fingers were already too numb for this to mean much for him, but he felt the danger lingering there like that would bring. She seemed to be too busy shivering to notice, but he doubted he could get away with this when he’d start tugging the zipper up.

It took a bit of force to get past the snag and his hand nearly got caught on the inside. He pulled it out before zipping her all the way up and merely earned himself a passing scowl. The action, however, made him lose his footing and he staggered a step back, accidentally pulling her with him. He managed to regain balance before they could topple over, but a loud, wooden creek cut his apology short.

The ground gave way beneath them.

 

**Back to the present**

 

So there they were – trapped in a cold cellar, freezing their souls off in the middle of Nowhere. To top it off, the one mainly responsible for the accident was also the one most offended – only she knew why.

John couldn’t shake the feeling that it was somehow his fault, though, and that it was somehow tied in to that increasingly dangerous _earlier_ that kept creeping up between them.

Catherine had curled up in a corner so she could mope better – at least that was how John preferred to view it as he continued to sweep his flashlight over the edge on the hole in search of a way out. Every now and then, he passed the beam over Catherine’s form to check she was still awake – he was afraid to let her sleep in this cold.

“Could you _please_ stop shining that thing in my eyes every ten seconds?” she growled. “I’m trying to think!”

“How worried should I be?” he asked, sitting down next to her – there didn’t seem to be much they could do to get out before morning. By then, the others will probably start a search to discover their dead, frozen bodies. Still, as long as they were still alive, there was no use to give up hope.

“Considering we’re well on our way to hypothermia and we’re in fucking Antarctica? I’d say you should be worried enough.”

“I’ve been to Antarctica. It’s nothing like this. They have penguins,” he tried to lighten the mood. He wondered how much danger he’d be in if he asked her to cuddle for warmth. Throwing her a quick glance, he decided against that solution. The air around them was slightly warmer than her attitude. It was unnerving how distant she could seem when she was sitting right next to him.

“Of course penguins could be the answer here!”

“Is this about earlier?” he asked gingerly. She was growing annoying again. And childish.

“Earlier?” she snapped. “Do you think everything revolves around your fantasies?”

This time, she turned to face him and outstretched her arm. It shivered with cold and effort.

“Hypothermia: uncontrolled, intense shivering, loss of coordination and feeling of intense cold. Our bodies are losing heat fast – about 2-3 degrees already. And this is the good part!” she explained icily. “Soon, we’ll stop feeling the cold altogether. Our brains will shut down. We’ll probably fall asleep and never wake up. All that they’ll find in the morning will be two human popsicles.”

“I know how hypothermia works,” he said once she finished her triad. His own thoughts had wondered along the same lines just moments earlier, after all. But it felt wrong to hear her talk like that about their imminent deaths – as if she was completely detached and uninterested.

“And it’s not just us. If we die, we won’t get to those poor bastards on time. They’ll die, of course. I wasn’t over-dramatizing earlier when I insisted we need to get to them this night.” Her fury was simmering just beneath the surface, but her words were as cold as the air around them. He would have preferred to hear her shouting.

“Maybe if you waited for a guide, neither of us would be stuck in this hole in the first place. We might have even made it to the cave by now!” he hissed, barely holding on to his calm. He knew as well as her what fate lay in waiting for them, but he was going to worry about that when they got there. It still came as a surprise how easily she had overlooked essential details and went off into danger.

“Oh, forgive me! I’m _really_ sorry I took you away from your _hot_ date with Madranne and her sisters. I should have waited for that guide and not ruin your night. It looks like you’re stuck with me, for now. Be happy it won’t be for long!”

It finally clicked. “You’re _jealous_?!” he asked incredulously.

He turned to get a better look at her. Surprisingly, she said nothing and managed to look completely dejected and seething at the same time. She looked like a small, furry ball of stubborn silence next to him, making him wonder if he should hug her or slap some sense back into her. She had stormed out into the night, without a guide, on a suicidal mission because she was jealous at the prospect he _might_ be spending the night with three beautiful women into whose arms _she_ had pushed him in the first place? “Should I remind you you’re the one who pushed the sisters my way?” To his own surprise, he sounded calm and she still ignored him. “If you really didn’t want to talk, there were other things we could have done tonight.”

This time, he got her attention. Her calm finally shattered and she slapped him.

Before she could pull back, he caught her wrists, pinning them to her sides. “What is it that you really want, Catherine?” he hissed, trying to keep her from hitting him again. “I’m not a mind reader. You have to actually talk to people. You can’t just expect me to-“

“Just leave me alone!” she pleaded. She could feel tears brimming behind her eyelids and she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry – she put even more effort behind her struggle. “That’s what I want. Nothing more.” Now that they were out of her comfort zone, it was harder for her to keep a hold on her self. All the emotions gathered over the past year were threatening to burst to the surface and overwhelm her. The thought of showing that kind of weakness in front of _him_ scared her more than anything.

“If you don’t want to talk, can you just calm down and listen to me?” His grip of her wrists tightened. He didn’t know what he was going to tell her. Maybe he was going to explain there was nothing between him and those women, though, for the life of him, he didn’t know why that would make a difference.

“Can’t you just let me be? I didn’t ask you to come along. You always have to play the hero, though! Always running to the rescue and laying your life on the line for people you don’t even care for!”

“The same way you always have to play the silent martyr! Never giving anything away until you burst and take out your frustrations on me. If you were so jealous of letting me go, why didn’t you take their first offer and spent the night with me? We’d’ve fought through the night in a cosy little room, next to a warm fire and you could have blamed me for whatever you like without getting us killed by frostbite!”

“How many times do I have to say this? It’s not about you!” she hissed.

“No, it isn’t. It’s about _you_. I’m just a handy target.”

“You should have left Lorne come with me on this mission. It would have been easier on everyone.” Her voice had switched to such a dejected tone it nearly made his heart ache. She was definitely playing up her martyr cards. He knew what she was doing, but was still almost falling for it.

“How am I supposed to know you wouldn’t chew poor Lorne out the same way you do with me? You’re not exactly a people person.”

“So you’re saying you were sacrificing yourself again,” she added bitterly. “I’ll just ask Elizabeth, if we ever get back, to team me up with someone else. If you don’t wish me on _poor Lorne_ , maybe there is _someone_ among your men you wouldn’t mind submitting to a bit of torture. Maybe someone who didn’t rise up to your standards?”

It was amazing how she could simply twist his words into her semblance of the truth. Who knew what she’d eventually blame him for if he allowed the discussion to continue – winter, maybe? Well, if they weren’t going to warm up from each other, they could keep the heat of the argument going.

“Is that your way of saying you’d have rather shared with Lorne?”

“Shared _what_ with Lorne?” she asked confused.

“The house... the bed…” He couldn’t believe what he was going on about, but it was finally getting her to react.

“What!?” she asked indignant. “Have you lost your mind somewhere in the past half hour?”

“Or maybe it would’ve just been easier letting him go with Madranne? You wouldn’t have given a damn about _customs_ then,” he goaded.

For a second, Catherine seemed to give up. Her arms slumped down, she closed her eyes and worried her lower lip with her teeth. Then, he immediately regretted it. “I really don’t care what you do and with who you do it. If we survive the night, go ahead, have an orgy if you like. Invite the fan club while you’re at it, I’m sure they’d love to join. I don’t care. I never did.” She took a long, stinging breath and continued without looking at him. “I’ve never belonged here. Why would I even care about what you think? I wanted to go home. You seem to have the impression that you have power over me. You mean nothing to me.” She paused, finally turning her eyes to him – she was crying. “Nothing.”

“You’re lying” he said, letting go of her wrists. He meant to simply let her go, but she refused to move. She just sat there, looking miserable and broken. In a strange way, she looked vulnerable and human, with all her defences down – a sight he had only been witness a couple of times. Without thinking about what he was doing, he leaned down and his lips found hers instinctively. It was probably the easiest way to prove she had something against him… or with him… or for him… or whatever preposition was called for in this situation. It was probably the best way to figure out what _his_ preposition was, but that hadn’t been the reason behind the kiss. If he were to be honest with himself, it wasn’t the first time he had tried to figure out that mystery and it had probably burrowed itself deep into his subconscious until the chance arose and his instincts took over.

To his great surprise, apparently she had something _for_ him, as she melted into the kiss. Her lips, cracked from the cold, moulded softly to his, replying almost instinctively to his requests. Eyes closed, his lips trailed softly up her cheek until he reached her eyelids, still wet from the tears.

He cupped her cheeks with his hands and trailed kisses down her nose until he reached her mouth again. The press of his lips became more demanding as he felt her hands digging into his hair, pulling him closer.

It wasn’t a practiced kiss and he could feel her hesitation, but she was as curious as she was inexperienced and he couldn’t pull back. Since he was being honest to himself, it was definitely something he should have done a long time ago, ever since he got a first look at what lay behind her contradicting façade. Still careful of her reactions, he wrapped his arms around her and deepened the kiss, being pleased to hear her moaning softly against his lips.

o0o0o

His kiss had taken her completely by surprise. She had often wondered how it would feel to actually have his lips on hers, but in her fantasies, this never happened as the outcome of a fight. She had often fantasized he would proclaim his undying love for her after she rescued his life – sometimes even by sacrificing herself in the process, like a heroine in the novels she never got the chance to read. It would have been a good bye kiss, but it would have been a proof of love. OK, maybe she was too romantic in a childish way, but it was perfectly reasonable for someone who skipped on that part of her teenage years.

The way it was happening now, it was nothing like what she had dreamt of, but it was John – _her_ John - and that was enough for her right then. She kissed him back hesitantly at first, but her eagerness took over and her lips followed his lead exploiting the kiss as her only chance to answer questions that had been plaguing her for months. She could feel walls breaking within her with every touch of his lips, while she automatically built new ones in their stead.

She knew exactly how vulnerable she was just then and it scared her, but she kept telling herself it didn’t matter – they weren’t going to make it through the night, anyway – so she abandoned herself to the present and to the warmth of his lips.

And still, one stray thought nagged at her mind – this wasn’t how it was supposed to go, not with him trying to prove he was right and her falling at his feet the moment he showed the least bit on interest, like some mindless teenager in the backseat of a car. It was hard to fight it, however, while every fibre of her body called out to him, trying to override her reason. Her stupid, stubborn reason, that wouldn’t leave her alone even in moments like these.

And that reason was telling her she wasn’t his first pick. He had admitted to it. He would have done this with anyone else rather than her. She just happened to be here now, trapped with him in the snow and the dark, away from other better choices – like Madranne. _And_ her sisters.

She caught his lower lip between her teeth, receiving no complaint from his side. It was a playful gesture, seductive even, a small part of her brain supplied. She played to his expectations, falling into his trap. She was disgusted with herself for that. _“…but you wouldn’t be my first choice if this were my fantasy,”_ wasn’t that what he said _earlier?_

Without thought, she bit as deep as she could and pushed him away, then retreated to the other end of the room, feeling more hurt than she would have imagined. She hated herself for letting this happen this way – their first kiss was nothing more than another attempt on his side to prove his superiority and she had just stumbled into it like a fool. She wasn’t even able to twist this into her favour, as a more experienced woman probably could. No, she was stupidly letting her feelings show long enough to be stepped on and crumpled at his feet.

The worst part was that even now, she was oscillating between the voice of reason – congratulating her for ending that moment of madness – and the stupid impulse to run back to his side and pick up where they had left off. At that moment, she was grateful, (oh, so grateful!) for the dark.

“You bit me!” He looked at her with shock and a bloodied lip.

“And you were taking advantage of me to prove a point,” she added, panting with the effort of suppressed emotions.

“Not the best of plans,” he admitted with regret, _but it had worked_ – he told himself – even if he hadn’t put _that much_ thought into it. For a short moment, he had caught a glimpse of what she was so desperately trying to hide and for that he was feeling absurdly proud of himself. Still, she was now hurting – which was never his intention – and he needed to do something about that.

“Now do you feel better about yourself?” she asked bitterly. “Did you prove just how macho you are, or do you need to go a bit further for that?”

John could kick himself. He really should have seen it coming – she wasn’t even giving him time to figure out his own feelings before jumping on the defensive. How could he even allow himself to think for a split second that this would be different? But he needed to explain. He needed to let her know this wasn’t a game and that he wasn’t taking advantage. Sure, his mind wasn’t firing at full capacity and he was still having trouble figuring out how to explain himself without losing even more of her trust, but even he had to admit he wasn’t shining in the best light at that moment.

So he went for the basics. “Can you calm down a minute?”

“So now I’m being hysterical?” she asked in a doubtful tone. “I’m as calm as I can possibly be.” And she was. At least, she sounded calm. She was so good at that. Over the years, she had come so close to perfection that only a few people could see through her act. No, not a few people, she corrected, just Daniel. Maybe she could have used his shoulder to cry on if he were there. “You give yourself too much credit, you know? Your point was made, we can move on the same way we always had. Anything else?” She kept her voice even, knowing it was the only thing that could give her away in the darkness.

Had she sounded hurt or, at least, annoyed, he would have gone over, hugged her and explained as much as he could. He felt the need to feel her warmth next to him. He wanted to give her comfort and, though he wouldn’t admit it aloud, he wanted some for himself in this cold desert. But this was Catherine with her defences back up. She had walled herself back inside and it was impossible to reach her. That cold voice was the worst. He almost preferred to know her angry and eager for a fight than this distant mask again.

“Since whatever I can say won’t make any difference, you’re right. You’re always right. I have much too high an opinion of myself to be worth anything in your eyes. I’m a loathsome specimen of the male species, while you are the great, misunderstood genius towering over us, poor mortals, from your ivory tower. I will never reach you. You felt nothing during that kiss. It was all one-sided. My sick and twisted imagination combined with the effects of onsetting hypothermia. You want to go on as before? I’m sick of before. I’m done trying to get through. So here’s my proposal – I’ll find someone else to accompany you on missions; I’ll never talk to you again, I won’t even look your way, if that’s how you prefer it. I’ll even help you get back to Earth, if you still want to go home. You can stop worrying; I’ll never bother you again. You can stay up in your tower. I hope you have a nice view.” The monologue sounded tired and pathetic even to him and he couldn’t believe he actually said something so… melodramatic. The only thing that could have made things worse would have been a confession of love or whatever it was that was brewing between them. He could only hope it was as embarrassing for her as it felt for him and she would never bring it up if they ever made it back to safety. Still, knowing her, she had probably missed the whole point and, if she hadn’t, she was completely uninterested by the entire thing. She was putting so much effort into hiding her emotions that she barely felt human at times.

There was one little thought that kept nagging at him throughout his triad and he finally remembered where exactly they were. He didn’t want to die from embarrassment, but he definitely wasn’t going to die from the cold! That, at least, was one thing he could do something about. There were some broken barrels around – some had broken when they first fell in and the others had probably crumbled with time and humidity. They could at least check if they could be used to build a fire. Besides, a bit of physical work couldn’t hurt in this cold and it would help him take his mind from the insufferable woman that was now keeping annoyingly quiet and staying out of his way.

“We can ignore each other when we get out of here, though. Right now, you can come and help me build a fire – if that’s not asking too much. We need warmth and light to make it to the morning,” he explained, annoyed he couldn’t see her face. “I’ve learned my lesson about making tasteless jokes around you. I promise not to offer to share body heat if we can get the fire going.” He raised his hands in surrender and went off to find what could be used to light a fire – most of the stuff down there was either frozen or damp and he didn’t want to die suffocated by smoke.

o0o0o

Throughout his speech, Catherine watched bewildered. Not even in her wildest dreams had she imagined she’d annoy him that badly, and it wasn’t even on purpose. Her knees were still quivering and her mind kept going back to the kiss with unnerving stubbornness. Part of her still wanted to apologize for her rash behaviour, even to go ahead and confess whatever she felt for him. Another part kept repeating that it was impossible for anything to develop between them – a guy with a whole fan club and a willing off-world Harem after his ass wouldn’t even have the time to be interested in someone as troubled as her for more than a fling. If anything could make her feel worse than she already was, it would be for him to see her as a one night stand.

She watched silently as he went around checking the scraps of barrels, the beam from his flashlight making the shadows around them dance as he trailed it around, seemingly unable to decide where to even start the fire. He hadn’t once turned the beam towards her and she was almost hoping he would. It felt increasingly lonely in the small space, the silence pulling them apart the way physical distance never could.

 _You felt nothing during that kiss. It was all one-sided._ His words echoed in her mind, over and over again. Could she have been wrong? Had she misjudged him all this time? If she had to be honest with herself, she had fallen for him from the very first time she’d met him. That was also the moment when she decided there couldn’t be anything between them and had started coming up with reasons for that. Her reasons were, however, completely different from what he was imagining. He was a Don Juan wannabe, cocky and obnoxious in his over-confidence. He was childish. There was that constant need of his to jump straight into danger. He wasn’t interested in her. He liked Elizabeth. Or Teyla. And there was always the mysterious Larrin everyone kept bringing up. Or maybe all three of them. He was annoying. He was… probably kind of perfect – _oh, fuck!_ – and she was kind of in love with him. And let’s face it, when was the last time she saw him running around, performing his part as Don Juan in other ways than flirting? Which, incidentally, he’d been doing a lot of with her. She felt a pang of guilt – he thought she considered herself too superior to stoop to his level, when she was only trying to protect herself against the inevitable.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, abandoning her wall and walking toward him. They could die down there and he would never know how she felt about him. “It… wasn’t one-sided.” She wondered if her voice carried over to him. She hoped it did, because she was too embarrassed to repeat herself. Trembling with tension and cold, she started gathering the debris on the floor in two piles – one for stuff that might burn, the other for damp or frozen stuff and she wasn’t quite sure about the first one.

o0o0o

John, while still keeping his eyes on his work, had heard her perfectly and wondered if he should be worried by this new understanding he seemed to have of her psychology.

He considered for a second telling her he’d already gone over that side of the pit, but thought better of, a second look wouldn’t hurt and it would keep her busy and moving a little longer. They had made enough progress for one night and he wasn’t sure what else he could say without causing damage again. Keeping busy was usually a good strategy during tense times.

The pit, however, wasn’t big enough or well supplied with wooden debris enough to keep them very busy for long. Eventually, what could be salvaged was salvaged and most of what couldn’t was set aside. John walked over to the pile of what Catherine had deemed appropriate fuel with the intention of inspecting it, still trying not to engage in conversation.

She took a step back, still waiting for him to acknowledge her.

His attention seemed entirely absorbed by the pile of wood.

“I’m _really_ sorry,” she whispered, almost breaking the silence.

“I don’t want you to stop talking to me,” she continued, feeling his hesitation to replay was growing into more silence. “Or get teamed up with somebody else.”

“OK,” he said, knowing he should give her more than just those two letters, but too worried he might scare her back into silence. One thing he had certainly learned about her was that you should let her open up on her own, without any kind of pressure. If anything, the past few hours had demonstrated what happened if she felt cornered.

“And I don’t want to go back to Earth, not yet anyway. Sure, we might not make it out of this, but if we do, I’d like to stay on in Atlantis… for a while, at least,” she confessed. It was hard to get this out, but it was probably the best time for it.

“If you’re going to stay, there won’t really be a way out of off-world missions, you know?” he pointed out, purposefully ignoring the possibility of this being their last mission.

She shrugged, forgetting he couldn’t see her, so she turned it into a deep sigh half-way through. “I’m well aware of that.”

It wasn’t something she liked thinking back to and she hadn’t yet decided if she could trust him with her past, but their time was running short so she might as well unload her burden.

“Once upon a time, I was supposed to join the SGC. It didn’t go very well. The first time I stepped on a different planet, it was supposed to be a routine trip – let the newbie see the sights sort of thing…” She gave him a bitter smile, relived he couldn’t see in the dim light of the flashlight. “It didn’t turn out as routine as they had expected. We were ambushed. I was _taken to safety_ while everybody died before my eyes and I couldn’t do anything about it. It was my duty to save them and I couldn’t do anything!” Despite her emphasis on the last sentence, she still sounded as distant and uninvolved as she always did when she talked about important events.

That was another thing John had started to understand about her – the greater the emotional charge she had to deal with was, the less involved she sounded. It had occurred to him before that this was a form of defence for her – always hiding behind minor frustrations and brushing aside the big things, presenting them in a lighter version. He had received his confirmation earlier, but it still seemed he needed reminding. “It wasn’t your responsibility,” he eventually said. “You’re not here to fight, you’re here to heal. No one expects you to-“

“Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t talking about combat. I should have been able to give them the medical care they needed on the spot!”

“Which you couldn’t do from beyond the grave. Whoever got you out of the fight was doing _their duty_ to keep you alive.”

She didn’t reply. He wasn’t the first to tell her that, he was sure of it – as sure as he was that it still didn’t make things easier for her, the same way it wouldn’t make it easier for anybody. One thing he could be certain about: she was a glutton for guilt. He knew people said that about him too, but at least he had good reasons to feel guilty.

“Weren’t we supposed to be building a fire?” she suddenly asked, bringing him back to the problem at hand.

It took a couple of seconds for John to register what she meant. It worried him – he had nearly embraced the numbness and, for a moment, forgot about the cold. “I was getting to that,” he lied, searching his pockets for a lighter.

He struggled unsuccessfully with the lighter a while, his fingers too numb to respond to his intentions, before he managed to get a small fire going. They couldn’t afford using up all their resources at once, so they had to do with a fairly small fire, barely enough to defrost their fingers. Partly out of precaution, partly out of desperate hope, they strewn some of the damp wood around the fire, hoping it would eventually dry enough to be usable.

In the faint light of the fire, Catherine examined her un-gloved hands. Her fingers were still trembling and she could still feel some pain but they were slowly turning blue and she was well aware where that led – frostbite. She closed her hands into fists and relished in the pain this simple gesture still caused – it meant she wasn’t yet going to lose them. Just to make sure, she repeated the motion a couple more times, then stretched them over the flame, careful not to get too close. The only thing worse than freezing alive was living without her fingers – the though made its insidious way into her mind and settled there comfortably, chasing away all her minor worries. This might even be her last day as a medic any way she looked at it. She wondered if it was a good time to share this with John, but he probably had enough worries of his own to bother with her at the moment.

Trying to get closer to the warmth of the fire, she drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, shivering all the way. The movement caught John’s attention and he hesitated a moment before throwing another piece of wood on the fire. It wouldn’t last long, even if the damp pieces dried enough to be of help, and, the longer they intended to keep it going, the weaker the flame was going to be. He wondered if it wouldn’t be better if they fed it properly and got decently warm for a little while, enough to brace against the cold that would await them for the rest of the night. It was a risk he wasn’t sure would be worth trying.

There was a detail he had the feeling he’d forgotten. A very fuzzy detail… It hit him that they had completely ignored one thing that would have actually helped them against the cold – the fur coat Madranne had given him when he went off after Catherine was still lying on the ground where it had landed when they fell through. He picked it up and stared at it for a moment, then shook the snow out of it, the current nearly putting out their meagre flame. This brought his attention back to the young woman curled up as close as she could to the fire and being as still and quiet as she had been for most of the night.

Without a word, he wondered over to her and placed the fur over her shoulders.

Her reaction was slow. She raised her face to him and shook her head. “No, thanks. I’m fine,” she reassured him in a weak tone, trying to shake off the fur. “You should put it on – you definitely look worse than I do.”

He gave her a half-smile. She’d probably still make the comment even if she could see herself in a mirror right about then, probably thinking she was doing her duty of saving him. “Yeah… but you really don’t want to end up looking like me, do you?” he tried to counter. “Besides, I’m not really that cold,” he reassured her.

He didn’t expect his efforts to backfire so soon.

“What do you mean, you’re not that cold?” she snapped, putting all her energy into standing. “I thought you weren’t going to give in!”

Staring at her almost dumbly, it finally struck him why she reacted so suddenly. “I didn’t me-“

“We need to get warmer. You need to… put some more wood on this fire,” she instructed, managing to sound less panicked than she felt.

Before he could move, she threw him the fur and grabbed some more wood from the dry pile. “You’re already hypothermic,” she said, frantically trying to get the fire to swell. “If you lose more heat, you might as well be dead.”

He didn’t have the energy to contradict her, so he just wrapped the fur around her shoulders again and sat down next to her.

She took it off again and was going to snap at him when she realized this wasn’t helping anyone. She was used to the cold from her time spent with her grandparents in Nebraska. Still, she was starting to feel less cold than she knew she should be and the idea of a nice, long nap was becoming very seductive. Eventually, the doctor side got the better of her and she decided he was going to make it through whether he wanted to or not and she was going to make sure he wouldn’t give in.

Maybe it wasn’t just her doctor side thinking when she wrapped the fur around both of them, shocking him by actually cuddling in his arms so they could both fit into it. It definitely wasn’t the side of her in charge when she asked him to wrap his arms around her and he complied, too shocked, surprised and quite possibly cold to answer any other way.

“You’ve stopped shivering,” John noticed after a long while. He wasn’t sure himself how long it had been since they last spoke, but they were almost out of wood and the fire wouldn’t last long after that. Not that it had been of great help, but it had kept them on the safe side of freezing while it lasted. All they could do once it went out was hope the dawn wasn’t far and that someone had figured out where they might be.

He squeezed her tighter into his arms, as if to make sure she was still there.

“I’m fine,” she answered absently. “You?”

“A bit sleepy.”

They were quiet a little longer, each wondering how to tell the other they had to fight off sleep for as long as they could.

Catherine was the first to break the silence. “Before I left the SGC… There was someone else I couldn’t save,” she confessed.

He wasn’t sure why she was bringing up that subject again, but it had to be important. Her effort to keep her thoughts on track was evident so he did his best to listen.

“The day Janet… died? It was supposed to be me. I was on call… but I had a _date_ …” She snorted at the thought, convinced he wouldn’t understand what an exceptional event that was back then. “Poor Mike had to insist a whole month before I gave in… So, we switched. Long story short – she died. She might have made it… if I were there for her when they brought her in…” She felt the need to press tighter to him, a comfort she’d never had the courage to ask for. “Have you… Do you know what I mean?” she asked, already suspecting the answer.

“I… think so?” he hesitated, unsure what to answer. If she was referring to Afghanistan, everything was on record. “What does it have to do with anything?”

She fell quiet again and he was about to check if she wasn’t asleep when she finally answered. “I meant… we’ve both had someone we couldn’t save. Someone close…” She gave him time for her words to sink in. “Right now… we have the chance not to lose another person. I’m not saying we’re close…”

“I know what you mean,” he said before she could say something she won’t get to regret. It was amazing how, even at a time like this, she was still worried about what their lack of a relationship was categorized. “I’ll do my best not to lose you,” he promised.

“Then, don’t let me sleep…” she whispered, clinging to him with all the strength she had left. It had been the best thing she could come up with to get him to stay awake.

“And… how do I do that?” he eventually asked once the last bit of wood was thrown on the fire.

“We could talk…” He could almost feel her jaw moving as she spoke, her head leaning against his chest.

“About?”

“Anything.”

“Food,” he said after a long moment of staring at the fire – it was barely a flicker, but they didn’t seem to need it anymore. She had long stopped shivering and he was beginning to feel smothered by the thick fur so he shook her – he felt sleepy and a quiet Catherine meant she was probably feeling the same.

“What?” she asked in a bleary voice.

“Food,” he repeated.

“No, thanks,” she shook her head. “I’ll… wait ‘til breakfast…” she mumbled and buried her face back in his shoulder.

He nudged her. “Wasn’t offering. You told me to ask.” He hesitated a second, waiting for her to look up at him. “I’m asking,” he eventually continued. “What’s your favourite?”

Another pause followed as Catherine gathered her thoughts. She remembered where they were and sighed. “Strawberry ice-cream,” she mumbled. “Until tonight, that is.”

Neither talked before the fire died, leaving them in the feint light of the flashlight.

“Well?” he insisted, staring at the top of her head and wondering if she had fallen asleep or not.

“What?”

“Your turn.”

She wondered what to ask him. It was surprisingly hard to think of anything. A sudden flash of memory, not entirely her own, brought back images only glimpsed while in his body and, before her brain could tell her it was too personal, she asked, “Your dad… did you… make up?”

His first reaction was surprise – it wasn’t exactly a part of his life he advertised and it definitely wasn’t in his record. “Who told you?”

“I saw it,” she said, lifting a hand from under the fur to tap at the side of his head. “I’ve been in there, remember?”

She had intended to playfully knock on his head with her fist, but her fingers were too numb to squeeze and she wasn’t going to bring that up.

“I remember.” Those had been weird days by any standards, but it hadn’t occurred to him she’d had access to his memories in such detail. He’d seen flashes of her life, but nothing he could put into words. He sighed. “He’s got Dave.”

“That’s not an answer.” The part of her mind still working pointed out that she wasn’t the best to bring this up – she couldn’t even go to her father’s funeral, let alone ‘make up’, but that was a different story. It would have been lovely to catch a nap – it was nice and warm there, snuggled in John’s arms – but she clung to the last coherent thought in her mind – she had to keep him awake. Sure, she asked the same thing of him, but she needed to make sure he was able to keep his side of the bargain. “Your turn,” she prompted, forcing her eyes open.

He didn’t ask anything immediately. It was difficult to come up with a safe enough question that wouldn’t require more concentration than they were able at the moment. For a second, it had even slipped his mind what it was his turn to do. He had to stick to neutral questions. “Favourite band?”

“Nightwish,” she answered without hesitation. It was the only band missing from the mp3 player Daniel had given her and she was going to have a long talk with him about that when she got back. “You?”

“Johnny Cash,” he said with more excitement than the question required. “I’ve even tried learning to play the guitar!” He didn’t mention the outcome of those lessons. He was going to take that to the grave.

“I figured. I saw the guitar, remember?”

Before he could talk, he was cut off by a deafening sound. It could have been a clap of thunder, except it wasn’t the season for it and they never came this close together, not even on alien planets. Several loud bangs followed, each more distant than the first, and he suspected what they could be.

“Great!” Catherine exclaimed startled. “What the hell was that?” she asked, raising her head to look at him.

He could see little of her face, but the image of her fretting over the loss of another patient or worrying about not being able to perform her duty was still fresh in his memory, persisting despite the cold, and he couldn’t find the heart to admit to his own worries. “Thunder,” he lied.

“It sounded like an explosion to me,” she insisted.

“Or an avalanche… Madranne told me they were quite common this time of the year.” He tried to shrug, but he felt the lie too heavy to make light of.

“I wonder if the villagers at the caves are alright,” she said, leaning her head against his chest again.

He fell quiet, content that she didn’t press the matter further. If he was right in his suspicions, she’d eventually find out what happened, but it didn’t have to be now. He hugged her tight, wondering if she’ll be cross with him once she knew the truth. It was even possible that her stubbornness had saved their lives.

o0o0o

When Coburn had left that morning with Stephanie on the mission, he had pitied John having to baby-sit a gloomy Catherine – not that she was much of a joy to be around regardless what mood she was in. Over the course of the day, he had learned in the most painful way possible that there were worse dangers among their medical staff. From the look of it, the young nurse had a crush on Zelenka and the two were now on more than friendly terms – that last part he had deduced from the painful amount of details he never wanted to know about the Czech but to which he was subjected regardless.

Eventually she had run out of Zelenka-related squeeing and there weren’t enough words to explain how relived he felt when she had finally fallen silent.

It didn’t last.

After a short pause, the woman had started going on about Lorne in almost as much detail, but with more wishful thinking. She’d randomly switched to Sheppard and McKay and there was a great deal more details in there that he wished he hadn’t heard. There was also Ronon and, by the end of the day, he knew more about every male member of the expedition than he thought would be possible and, more important, that he ever wished to.

On top of everything, she had refused the villagers’ invitation to spend the night there in favour of returning to Atlantis. Apparently, she had a date with Zelenka and wasn’t about to miss it for something as unimportant as her work.

He had tried contacting the colonel to tell him they were going back, but there was no answer. He had contacted other teams and everything seemed to be fine with the communications. No one, however, had managed to reach John for several hours now. It might have been nothing – it was late, after all, and they could be sleeping. It didn’t explain why the radio was dead, though. Another team had agreed to check in on them first thing in the morning and he was going to come right back after dropping off Stephanie in Atlantis.

The incident had helped him tune out the nurse’s prattle. She had finished giving her opinion on the men of Atlantis and had since moved on to matchmaking or shipping or whatever she chose to call it. He wasn’t sure what she meant by canon couple, but he was relieved not to find himself on that list.

They were almost at the Gate when the sky suddenly caught fire. The blast of the explosion threw them to the ground, from where they could see the other explosions – each marking another village.

There was no time to wait for the outcome. Dragging a bewildered Stephanie towards the Gate, he dialled the address.

o0o0o

It was very quiet down in their little hole. It had been so for a while and Catherine wasn’t sure if she had spent that time asleep, unconscious or bored. There was something she was supposed to be doing, but she couldn’t quite remember what. It had something to do with John, so she raised her face to his to ask. “John, what were we doing?”

There was no answer and his eyes were closed. There was something about that, she remembered.

“Are you alright?” she asked, the words coming out more muddled than they had sounded in her head.

“John?”

Her heart began beating faster and she remembered the cold. She could feel panic set in, but she had to hold on. Now she knew what was going on. She tried shouting to wake him, but she could barely muster a less muddled whisper.

There was pain in her chest, her heart beating out of sync. The thought that he might be dead was pushing its way into her mind and settling there in all its weight.

His arms were still wrapped around her and she wondered if he’d frozen like that, a new wave of horror washing over her.

“You can’t be asleep!” she hissed, forcing herself to hope. “You promised you’d keep me awake!”

With great difficulty, she took off her cap and pressed her ear to his chest in search of a heartbeat. It was near impossible to hear anything through all the layers of clothing and she clung on to the thought when she was met with more silence.

Light was starting to filter in from outside, marking the end of a long night of waiting. Someone was bound to come looking for them, she kept reminding herself. They were probably going to be too late, whenever they came – it was already too late for John and it didn’t matter anymore if they found her on time – she had failed again.

There was no sense to stay awake, not anymore. Before she let sleep engulf her this time, she pressed her cheek to his. “Good morning, my love,” she whispered, unable to say good bye. She didn’t expect him to stir.

“You’l cap…” he mumbled.

Before he could finish whatever he was trying to say, Catherine tightened her embrace and gave him a peck on the lips.

“You scarled me!” she complained, unable to put enough annoyance into her voice.

“Put… you’l cap,” he insisted, stumbling over the words. “You’ll… fleesse…”

“Aleady theee,” she assured him with an attempt at a smile.

“Did you…” he hesitated, unsure what he wanted to ask. “…just kiss me?”

She looked at him stunned and forced herself to laugh. “You did, hous ago.”

“But… just now…”

“Hypothemia causses confffuson,” she assured him.

They stared at each other in silence before John spoke again. “Listen!”

“No, I… hafe sometling to tell’yo,” she whispered.

“No, no, _lisen_!” he insisted.

Something was going on above them – there were footsteps, crunching snow and voices. John was afraid it might be another hallucination.

Catherine listened and her face lit up. “Roney!”

The voices were getting closer and louder and the two could make out their names being shouted.

“Ovel heee!” John cried, his voice to weak to carry over the top of the hole.

A few minutes later, a head popped into view and vanished just as fast. “They’re down here!” Rodney cried. “Get Dr Meyer!”

o0o0o

Hearing Coburn’s news, Elizabeth didn’t waste any time sending reinforcements. Three military teams, along with as many doctors and Rodney, Ronon and Teyla were dispatched to evacuate the survivors. It was all she could do for now and Elizabeth couldn’t stop worrying for the people she had sent there.

It had taken the teams less than an hour to reach the first village, but there was nothing left in its place but burning ruins.

“Are you sure this is where John and Catherine were?” Rodney asked, desperately checking his scanners for life forms. Except for their own team members, nothing else registered. He wanted to stop Ronon from searching among the ruins, but Teyla placed a hand on his shoulder, preventing him.

“This is where they were supposed to be,” Coburn confirmed a bit late. “They hadn’t been in contact with anyone since night-fall.”

Deciding to hold on to whatever hope he could get, Rodney took this as excellent news. “Maybe they left the village,” he suggested. “You know how Catherine is. She probably finished ahead of time and they were on their way home, like you guys, when the attack came.”

No one had the heart to point out that they would have returned to Atlantis already if that were the case, or they would have already ran into them, dead or alive, on their way to the village.

“I’ll increase the radius of the scan,” Rodney offered. “It won’t be as accurate, but it’s better than nothing.” He looked to the others for encouragement, but none kept his gaze for long.

Coburn’s radio came to life, breaking Rodney’s concentration along with the uncomfortable silence and offering the scientist the opportunity to snap.

“Do you mind? I’m trying to work here!” He kept his eyes on the major as he retreated a few steps away to talk to Lorne. The news from the other village wasn’t any more encouraging, but there were still settlements to check for survivors and someone from yesterday’s expedition had to have escaped the attack somewhere.

Still fidgeting with his scanner, Rodney diverted his anxiety to Ronon who was still searching among the rubble for who knew what. “You won’t find them behind the sofa, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he snapped again, more frightened that they would find their carbonized bodies along with the natives than that they might not find them at all.

“Do you have any better ideas?” Ronon asked, abandoning his search and approaching the Canadian menacingly.

“They might have gone to another village…” he suggested, aware of how farfetched his idea sounded.

“So you’re suggesting we should go on a wild goose hunt rather than accept the facts?” Ronon growled.

“It has been known to work in the past,” Teyla intervened to calm the spirits.

Rodney opened his mouth to argue with Ronon again, but was distracted by the two dots blinking on the edge of the scanner. He stared at them, mouth agape, then looked back at the others. “I keep telling you I’m a genius and you still doubt me,” he bragged, grinning.

It was their turn to look incredulously at him – the change in mood came as a surprise even from Rodney, under the circumstances.

“Don’t you see?” he insisted. “I’ve increased the scan radius. They’re not in the village, but they’re still alive, if barely.”

“Unless this thing gives you name-tags as well, it could be anybody,” Ronon huffed, turning away in disgust.

“Even if it weren’t them, we’re supposed to be looking for survivors. It is them, though,” he insisted.

Half an hour later, he was proven right by a deep hole, housing two nearly frozen people they had almost given up on finding.

o0o0o

Reality had been fading in and out for a while now. She couldn’t be sure how long it’s been since Rodney found them – their rescue, trip back through the Gate and subsequent stay in the Infirmary was a blur. She wasn’t even sure if it had really happened or if she was lying frozen and unconscious in that derelict shed.

She wasn’t cold, her mind concluded. She couldn’t move, but it was because of a heavy blanket covering her, not because she was numb or frozen. Once the realization sank in, her first thought was to check her hands – they were still red and sore, but the frostbite hadn’t reached deep enough to do any permanent damage. She wriggled her fingers and they tingled a bit. It made her ridiculously happy.

There was something else worrying her, but, for the moment, it was buried under the bubbling joy of the knowledge that she still had use of her hands – she could still work as a surgeon.

The nagging feeling eventually clawed its way to the surface.

“John?” she asked softly, receiving no response. She turned on her side, looking for the man she knew was supposed to be there, but wasn’t. “John?” she called a little louder, panic rising in her hoarse voice. Her attempt at sitting up resulted in aches in her back and all through her body. “John?” she asked again, in a softer voice, as she sank back under the blankets, defeated.

“You’ll hurt yourself if you keep that up,” she could hear him answer and turned on her other side, following his voice. There he was, feeling much better than she did, judging by his grin. The relief she felt drowned the desire for an acid comeback.

“And you couldn’t answer the first time because?” she mumbled.

His grin widened. “Third time’s the charm and, besides, it was the first time you called my name this week without murderous intent.”

“That’s not true!” she protested, but the events of the past few days played out in her mind – she really didn’t only call his name with murderous intent, there was the… kiss. Shit! That actually happened?! She had actually kissed him? OK, maybe she thought he was dying, but still, she wasn’t sure how she was going to rationalize that later.

She threw him a quick glance, trying to remember the details, but he looked as oblivious as before.

Maybe it was a good thing, but she still had to check if she was ever going to be able to look him in the eye again.

She gathered her courage and cleared her throat. “You’re making a habit out of not answering the first time,” she commented with what she thought of as diplomacy.

“What do you mean?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“Back in the… hole…”

“It was a cellar,” he corrected her.

“Whatever. I actually thought you were dead at one point.” That was it, if he remembered that, he probably remembered his wakeup.

“I was awake all the time,” he protested. “I was supposed to keep you awake after all.”

For the second time that day she felt extremely relieved and couldn’t help giving him a sweet smile, dimples forming in her cheeks.

o0o0o

John was surprised to see that she could actually be, well, cute. It was such an unusual sight, he couldn’t help tease her. He did remember last night, maybe not in detail, but enough of it to know why she was beaming like that. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something since I woke up.”

“Sure, go ahead.”

“There’s something about last night that keeps bugging me.” He could see her face grow darker, so he continued, barely holding back his grin. “You wanted to tell me something, in case we didn’t make it.” Not only was her face darker, but it was also becoming tinted in a shade of pink that suited her particularly well. “Before Rodney came along… Right after you-“

With a thump, the pillow, aimed with surprising accuracy at his face, prevented him from finishing his comment.

“You _dreamt_ that part,” she hissed, turning her back to him and pulling the cover over her head.

Holding back his laughter, John threw the pillow back at her, enjoying the sight of a light-hearted Catherine again. It wasn’t bound to last, but it was a good respite for now.

“Right after you took your cap off like an idiot,” he finished, grinning. “What did you think I was going to say?”

“Nothing,” she mumbled, pulling the pillow over her head. Her face was burning and she refused to bring the subject up again. She refused to bring up _any_ subject and quietly ignored all his attempts to start another conversation. Right then, she looked like a pouting, spoilt 10 year old.

“Catherine?” John called, trying not to look too amused.

From under the cover, she huffed, sounding petulant. “What?”

“I really don’t remember the-“

“You’re awake. Good,” said Rodney, walking into the Infirmary, tablet in hand and his eyes glued to it. “About the survivors…” he began, trailing off at the sight of John waving discreetly to shut up.

“Is she OK?” he asked, not looking at Catherine.

“She’s-“

“Good. We managed to find the people in the caves – they’re fine. Dr Meyer got them all vaccinated and checked. With you two, this makes 24 survivors in total.”

When he finally unglued his eyes from his tablet, he found John silently shaking his head and mouthing a soundless _great_.

o0o0o

In her cocoon, Catherine went perfectly still. The thunder finally clicked in her head as what it truly was. Her heart began to race and her mind focused on a single thought – out of all the people she had met that day, she had only truly seen two: the last woman she vaccinated and Madranne. She had completely ignored the first, while the second had been the target of her childish jealousy. She didn’t even try to acknowledge their presence, thinking only about fulfilling her duty, and now they were all _dead_?

Slowly coming out from under the cover, she gave Rodney a steady look. “Is Madranne alright?” Her voice didn’t quiver, and her expression was as composed as ever. The only things that betrayed her right then were the sudden paleness of her face and the chill in her voice. Oh, how she wished she could cry in moments like this!

Silently, Rodney shook his head.


	9. Episode 9 – In the name of faith

**Episode 9 – In the name of faith**

 

The past weak had been demanding on every member of the expedition, relocating the survivors of P3X – G24 taking up more time and resources than expected, made all the more necessary by the crippling winter that had settled over their planet. At first, it had seemed quite easy to find a new home for the handful of people that had made it through the attack – the possibility of housing them on-base had been the first suggestion, but they had refused it outright, insisting that they needed the stability of firm land and the freedom it offered now more than ever. Of the seven communities they had approached to house them, none accepted, for fear of disease and repercussions. Though the medical personnel had done their best to clear any shadow of a doubt that the twenty people were in the best of health, there was no way of guaranteeing there wouldn’t be another devastating attack on whoever accepted to take them in. Eventually, the Athosians offered their hospitality, helping them build a farm on the mainland. From the looks of it, it had been a mutually beneficial decision, both peoples working together to now improve their farming and finding more in common than they had initially thought.

“Teyla, I hear your people took in the survivors without any incidents,” John said, translating for Ronon who was trying to talk with half a chicken stuffed in his mouth.

It was past lunch time, but John’s team had barely made it to the mess hall after a gruelling debriefing in Elizabeth’s office. By all appearances, Ronon was trying to make up for losing both diner and breakfast, while Rodney looked like he had never had a meal in his lifetime – only one of them was right, but it sure felt the same for the other. Despite his appetite, Ronon was feeling unusually talkative and John was stuck as his interpreter. It was a wonder how he managed to make sense of the muffled sounds and put them into words. So far, he had gone on and on about the chef’s culinary prowess, the advantages of fresh meat versus frozen, popular music (though that might have been a mistranslation) and the body-swap incident (which John refused to translate altogether and was having a hard time figuring out why he would even bring that up).

“They are good people, but I believe they are still in shock after their ordeal,” Teyla said with a smile, delicately cutting at her salad. “I would be more worried about Doctor Spencer.”

Ronon, between two bites, managed to mumble something along the lines of “I wouldn’t,” which John found distinguishable enough not to repeat.

Rodney, who had been transfixed over his plate for the entire meal, suddenly grew attentive. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he cleared his throat. “I heard she was busy.” There was a slight tremble of hesitation in his voice.

“You’ve _heard_?” John repeated.

“Why?” Rodney asked, completely oblivious. “Has anything happened?”

“Weren’t you two going out?” John asked, hoping that what Ronon had just mumbled wasn’t too far off from what he wanted to ask. He ignored Ronon’s look that suggested otherwise.

“I think we were…” Rodney trailed off, turning his gaze back to the last pieces of roast on his plate. He eventually wheeled round to what the others were probably hinting at. “Oh! You thought I might have visited her in the lab!” The looks of expectation on their faces told him he was finally right. Slouching a little in his chair and stabbing his fork in the meat, he said, “Did you think I’m suicidal?”

“She has been in there for the last five days,” Teyla pointed out.

“Exactly! You know how she gets when she’s working.”

“She can’t be worse than you!” John said, earning another disapproving look from Ronon, whose mumbles had again been intentionally mistranslated.

“I talked to the nurse that’s bringing her food and coffee and I understand she sometimes forgets to eat. I wonder if we shouldn’t bring this up with Dr Weir,” Teyla pointed out.

“I’ll check in on her,” John said, with the air of a man who was taking one for the team. Even he had noticed there was something off with the dear doctor since she was back on her feet, but he wasn’t exactly the first who was supposed to come running to her side now, was he? Apparently, Rodney was off on his queue again.

Ronon grunted, happy there was no way anyone could have taken John’s offer as a translation.

“I forget to eat all the time,” Rodney assured them. “When I’m working,” he added when he saw their incredulous looks. “She’ll be fine.”

o0o0o

He had intended to see Catherine right after lunch, but he kept getting distracted. First, it was Lorne with a problem in the Jumpers’ Bay, then Elizabeth, with info on another planet where the virus might have cropped up, sparing with Ronon and a short trip to the infirmary – that was the last time he worked as a translator! – then Rodney with something about the sensors, he’d then bumped into one of the archaeologists and got sucked into a bit of small talk, then… It was evening by the time he finally found himself in front of the lab, wondering if it had been a good idea in the first place.

He was debating if he should knock first or not when the door opened and Catherine nearly walked into him. She looked rather worried and, when she raised her head to face him, her eyes were heavy with exhaustion. “I was just…” she mumbled, gesturing vaguely.

He hadn’t seen her since they were given the all clear a weak ago, but the changes were more than obvious. She didn’t look too bad - not particularly - just lost. She looked smaller somehow and even more like a child, her tired eyes standing out more than usual. Even more surprising, she didn’t seem upset to see him.

“I wanted to check on you earlier, but I wasn’t sure you’d like the company,” he said by way of explanation, immediately feeling like an idiot for excusing himself.

Her tired gaze seemed to brighten just a little and she wrapped her arms around him in a silent embrace, leaving him stunned. He stared at the top of her head in confusion for a second, before wrapping his own arms around her, pulling her closer. He could feel the tension in her body – lack of sleep and long hours of work, not the usual rejection of human contact. For the first time since he’d met her, he felt a strange need to protect this small, tired being, so different from her normally prickly self.

“Thank you, Colonel,” she whispered. “John,” she corrected herself and gave him a week smile.

OK… something was definitely wrong with her. While he knew how to deal with her prickly side, he was at a loss when it came to this other, more vulnerable Catherine. He intended not to think too much of it, but the way she was looking at him, the way she held him, the way she tilted her head just a little to the side… But this _was_ Catherine, he told himself, no matter how soft - or inviting - she might act, and he averted his head before he made another slap-winning mistake. He refused to think what they might have looked like to any passer-by.

Beyond her, the lab looked like it had been used by a whole team of medics, not just one person, and there was a tray of food, still untouched, on the counter. Teyla hadn’t been mistaken about Catherine skipping her meals and it explained her state of weakness and, quite possibly, her behaviour right then – she was probably delirious with hunger and exhaustion. He almost felt like he was taking advantage of the situation and guilty for it, although he wasn’t and shouldn’t have. Though, judging by how things were going, he probably would.

He awkwardly cleared his throat. “I was thinking of going to dinner. Want to join me?” he found himself asking, certain she’d say no.

Once more, she surprised him. “You go ahead, I just need to check on some samples and lock the door and I’ll be right with you.”

He watched her go back into the lab, unaware he was smiling while doing so, then headed for the mess hall humming.

o0o0o

His invitation took her by surprise even more than his presence at her door. She had been so distracted by work that the memory of the night they spent in the frozen pit seamed all too distant. She still felt it was a bad idea to get too close to him, but she saw no point in denying her feelings. Not that he had any for her - his coldness earlier made that very clear - but they could at least become friends. Who was she kidding? They couldn’t be friends, not as long as she felt so damned attracted to him! Hell, she had nearly begged to be kissed earlier. And what did he do?! Oh, right! He just looked away and asked her to dinner.

Oh, well… What the hell… She was hungry, and that was the only reason she had accepted the invitation.

o0o0o

By the time he entered the mess hall, John was convinced Catherine wasn’t going to turn up. She had probably locked herself back in the lab, happy she was rid of a nuisance. It was probably for the best… for him. He was going to ask Teyla to check in on her later, make sure she at least ate something for the day.

Somehow, he felt disappointed, but it was his mistake to think she was going to come. What was he thinking asking her to dinner, anyway? He had more chances of getting Elizabeth to go to a football match.

He didn’t hear her walk up next to him. She tapped him on the shoulder and he nearly jumped. “Haven’t you decided what to get, yet?” Catherine asked him, her tray already full.

“I wanted to finish this first,” he said, holding up his beer.

He watched her from the corner of his eye as she sat down at the table, wondering what was different about her. She still wore the same clothes, had the same tired look in her eyes and was definitely not wearing any makeup. But there was something…

“So, what do you know about the survivors? I didn’t get to check on them after they left Atlantis,” she asked, fixing him with those big, blue eyes that were the first thing he noticed about her when they first saw each other.

“They’ve been taken in by the Athosians, on the mainland,” he said, glad to have a semi-neutral topic to fall onto. “Teyla has been of great help welcoming them among her people.”

Catherine forced herself to swallow the last bite and washed it down with some lemonade. “Aren’t we lucky to have her around?” she bit. He was almost certain there was a twinge of jealousy in her voice. Of what, that he couldn’t possibly know.

“I’ve heard Rodney hasn’t seen you in a while,” he said, changing the subject. “He was even starting to feel a bit forgotten.”

“Well, I was starting to feel a bit forgotten, myself,” she commented, the corner of her lips lifting in a smile.

“I think he feared for his life.”

“Then how come you showed up?”

He gave her a broad smile. “Everyone knows I’m a bit suicidal,” he joked.

“You have a death wish, huh?” She threw a crumpled paper napkin at his head.

“Well, some days I face Wraith, others, a cranky Dr McKay and others, you,” he pressed on with a grin.

“Really, now? And which would you say is the scariest?” she asked gingerly.

His face turned serious and he straightened up, but his eyes still held a hint of his smile. “You, hands down.”

She burst out laughing, nearly spilling her drink. It looked good on her, the colour was beginning to return to her cheeks and she seemed more alive than he could remember seeing her. He supposed this was what you got when you finally pulled her out of her shell. Maybe she was like this with Rodney all the time. Then why the hell didn’t the idiot have dinner with her more often?! It would make for a much more enjoyable working environment.

“How about Rodney?” she asked when she eventually subdued her laughter.

“What? You haven’t seen him on a bad day yet?” he asked in carefully timed bewilderment. “Not even the Wraith would want him!”

She covered her mouth with her hand in theatrical shock. “Don’t tell me even the Wraith started a John Sheppard fan club!”

It was his turn to nearly spill his drink, but not from laughter. After the initial shock, he joined in the joke. “Of course. I know quite a few Queens that can’t get enough of this perfect body.”

“And I thought they were only after your mind. You can’t argue with taste, especially that of a seven foot tall humanoid insect.”

John raised his drink to that. “Nothing truer.”

“Now, tell me… Don’t be shy…” she said, inching toward him, as if she wanted to share a secret. “How much truth is there behind the story about you and that Wraith Queen?” she asked, winking.

He looked puzzled. “What Queen?”

“The one in the story. Well… storie _s._ You can’t have smoke without a fire and you can’t have numerous members of this expedition dismembering me in various ways while the Wraith Queen has her way with you.”

This time, he spluttered his drink. How on Earth did their discussion end up there? When did they veer from talking about her and her boyfriend and taken a turn into… the strange and dangerous dark areas of their intranet. He found his composure, eventually.

“By that logic, the two of us should have our very own pay-per-view adult show,” he said innocently. “The things some of them describe us do… I’m actually a bit jealous of my fictional self,” he added wistfully, oblivious to what he had just said.

Catherine watched him in stunned silence, turning beat-red and very self-conscious. “What do you mean?” she asked apprehensively.

“Well, I can’t complain about my… equipment, but the upgrades those girls have given me? Wow!” he said. “Not to mention the Casanova charm. Even _you_ would give in to that one!”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you,” she said, her patience wearing thin, but too happy about the change in subject to care.

Giving her a sly look, he decided he wasn’t going to let her off that easy. Wraith Queen? Really? She sure knew how to spoil a man’s appetite. “Not me, my girl, actually. Sheppard’s Girl. You should really check out her stuff. Much better than the Wraith ones and they’re all lemons!”

Catherine choked. “Your girl, huh?” she muttered.

“I have to say I’m quite proud of her,” he egged her on. “Even if she does start from a rather far fetched idea.”

Catherine looked like she was treading on very thin ice, avoiding his eyes. If there had still been any doubt about the identity of “his” girl, he had just eliminated it.

Eventually, curiosity seemed to outweigh prudence and she asked, “What far fetched idea?”

He smirked. “Well, to think that you-“

Just at that moment, as in so many before, he was interrupted by Elizabeth’s voice through the radio. “Colonel?”

“What is it, Dr Weir?” he asked in a more congenial tone.

“There have been new reports of the virus.”

“I’m on my way,” he replied, one step behind Catherine, who had already stepped out the door.

As she tied her hair back into her characteristic ponytail, he realized what had been puzzling him about her look all evening.

o0o0o

Teyla had been the bearer of bad news this time. It was a very secluded community, despite having a Gate on their planet. There was no commerce or contact to anyone off-world and from the little intel they could gather, there weren’t many communities outside of the nearest to the Gate. Her sources had told her that the only exception to their strict no contact rule was around the time of their New Year Festival, when a few envoys were sent to gather various sacred plants that couldn’t be grown on the planet.

Apparently, the child of one of those envoys was dying because of a couple of scrapes that had mysteriously become infected and it had spurred him on to talk about the apparent curse the community had been under – a whole slew of strange disease, infection and unexplainable death. There was no way of telling if it was the dreaded virus without sending someone in and Catherine had insisted that she be on the team no matter what. She had insisted so vehemently, in fact, that Elizabeth had eventually agreed, despite John’s insistence that she was too exhausted by the last few days of intense and self imposed labour to join them, drawing her displeasure to him once more.

After a long talk, they had decided it was best to send in the minimum number of people so as not to disrupt the parochial ways of the community. John, Teyla and Catherine were going to investigate the rumours, while the Dedalus was sent to survey the planet from orbit and prevent an eventual attack from the outside. It had been Elizabeth’s idea, who had refused to let them go without backup. It was hard enough to convince her to let them leave, despite the ship needing 25 hours to get there.

o0o0o

Unlike most Gates they had encountered in the Pegasus Galaxy, the one on M37-BS3 was inside of what looked like a very large hall – it was hard to tell what kind of structure it actually was in the dim light of half a dozen burning torches, but it felt familiar despite the slightly religious overtones, reminding them of Atlantis on a bad day.

Catherine set down her medical kit, which she had insisted on carrying herself again, and was about to say something when John signalled her to be quiet and held his P-90 ready. Teyla was also on her guard. They were waiting for something. Eventually, Catherine caught the sound of footsteps echoing through the walls and realized why everyone was so tense – even with her little experience, she knew a welcome party wasn’t usually a good sign outside a Stargate. She reached for her own stunner which she had learned how to use as part of the intense weapons training she was doing with Major Lorne, but she didn’t get to unholster it before they found themselves surrounded by a group of locals with guns. Advanced guns, actually. Lantian guns, quite possibly.

One of the men, the leader, signalled to the others to wait. “Who are you?” he asked.

“We came here to help,” Teyla said, lowering her weapon as a sign of good faith. “We heard about the curse.”

“None of your business!” the man hissed. “The New Year will wash it away,” he explained confidently, arming his weapon.

Happy not to have been seen actually holding a weapon, Catherine decided she was best suited to earn their trust. “We know,” she assured him, holding her arms slightly raised. “We’ve been sent to make sure it will never come back.” She tried to sound as friendly and as full of good will as one could when held at gunpoint.

“You’re messengers of the ancestors now, are you?” the man asked cynically.

“If that’s how you want to call us,” she agreed.

She could feel John’s stare on her and did her best to ignore it. “We come from their city.”

“You don’t say…” the man mocked, but he didn’t sound as self-assured as before. “Why should we believe you?”

“Because we’re telling the truth,” she answered unhesitantly. With her big blue eyes and her innocent face, she looked incapable of lying. She hoped the men aiming their guns at them felt the same way.

Indeed, a couple of moments later, their leader signalled them to lower their weapons. In turn, John did the same thing and Catherine needed all her powers of self control not to gloat at the stunned look on his face. She had been on her high school’s debate team when she was eight. Did he think she was going to back down before a handful of space hillbillies?

Getting over his initial surprise, John eased back into his role as leader and offered the leader of the locals his hand. “Colonel John Sheppard,” he introduced himself, then pointed to his two female companions. “These are Dr Catherine Spencer and Teyla Emmagan, leader of the Athosians.”

The men eyed the two women suspiciously. “I am Bob Rattler and these fine men are part of the town guard,” the leader spoke up. He still hadn’t taken John’s hand and was instead looking intently at Catherine. “Tell me, John, do the messengers of the ancestors usually leave their women do the talking for them?”

“No sir,” John said, taking his hand back and eyeing the other man in a rather unfriendly way, “they have enough work talking for themselves.”

Catherine frowned, but Teyla put a hand on her shoulder as a silent warning. She was certain the other woman didn’t like this any more than she did. For the sake of diplomacy, it was best they kept quiet for the moment, especially if they wanted to get a chance to check up on the sick. She gave Teyla a quick look, to assure her she hadn’t forgotten why they were there, then turned to John. “We can stand on etiquette all day, Colonel, but that won’t help the sick,” she reminded him, earning herself a sharp look.

John turned to Bob with a strained smile. “I hate to have to say this, but I believe she’s right. We can stand here all day and debate rather or not she can debate you, or you can show us to your town so we can help those affected by the curse and you can go on with your New Year festivities.”

The man called to his troops in an unknown language, probably a local dialect, and after what felt like interminable negotiations, they finally came to an agreement, looking none too happy about it. “We can let the two of you come,” Bob said, pointing to John and Catherine, “but she stays here, with us, until you’re finished.”

They obviously wanted to hold Teyla prisoner until they returned, and that was unacceptable. Even if they didn’t look particularly dangerous, appearances were usually deceiving and no one looked trustworthy when they had a big gun.

“We can’t agree to that,” John said, shaking his head slightly. “She’s coming with us.”

“That’s not negotiable. She can stay here, while you go into town, or you can all go back through the Travelling Ring to wherever it is you come from,” Bob said in a voice that allowed no comment.

“It’s alright, John. I’m sure these fine gentlemen will be able to keep me safe until you return,” Teyla assured him, doing a good job of hiding the sarcasm in her voice.

“We can’t let them die,” Catherine spoke up.

Still displeased with the prospect, John nodded. “Alright, but if anything happens to her…” He didn’t finish his sentence, but the look he gave his P-90 didn’t bode well.

o0o0o

They were heading for the village, Bob leading the way three steps in front of them.

John had been trying to catch Catherine’s glance ever since they left the temple, without much success. She was walking straight on, either ignoring or missing him completely. Knowing her, it was probably the first guess, but that wouldn’t stop him from trying. He cleared his throat a few times, ever tried to call after her discreetly, without any progress. Exasperated, he eventually grabbed her arm, making sure she acknowledges his presence.

“What sort of stunt did you think you were pulling back there?” he hissed when she finally turned to face him, her eyes sparking with rage.

“What are you talking about?”

“The whole speech from earlier,” he explained. “What was going on through your head?”

“In case you’ve missed it, I just saved your sorry ass.” She pulled her arm out of his grasp, trying to continue ahead without making a scene.

“Really? All you did was make me look like a fool in front of the locals and turn them against us,” he hissed again, his voice strained from trying to keep the volume in check. “Because of you, Teyla now has to wait by the Gate, surrounded by a bunch of armed men who don’t seem very friendly towards the ladies.”

Catherine stopped in her tracks and turned toward him. “Sorry I didn’t let you handle it your way. We would have made so much progress if you started shooting at each other.”

John would have loved to grab her shoulders and shake some sense into her, but that would have only annoy her and attract their guide’s attention, so he squeezed his fists tight and drew in a deep breath before answering. “All I want you to do is keep quiet once we get to the village. In case you haven’t noticed, these aren’t exactly forward thinkers here and they don’t respond well to being ordered around by a woman. Keep your charms for those who appreciate them,” he joked, trying to ease the air between them.

It didn’t seem to work, as she answered through gritted teeth. “Such as yourself?”

“I’m sure Rodney appreciates the company of a spirited woman,” he said. “Look, when we get to a planet that has gone through the whole women’s rights thing or runs on a matriarchal system, go ahead and negotiate. While we’re on the Planet of Hillbillies, you let me do the talking.” He hoped he was being clear enough, but it didn’t seem to work with her temper. He was almost certain he’d said something to upset her, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what it was. On second thought, it might have been the reference to Rodney that did it, but he wasn’t going to admit appreciating anything about her while she was acting like Elizabeth Taylor’s Cleopatra.

“Oh, because you’re such a good negotiator and you are so much against their view on women,” she hissed, tripping over her own feet in the process of a dramatic turn.

Without actually looking at her, he caught her in mid-fall and set her back on her feet before letting go. “Before you go around insinuating that I’m being sexist-” he hissed, wondering how long they could keep up a conversation like that, “-remember that Dr Weir is a woman and I have no problems following _her_ orders… most of the time.”

“Who said anything about Dr Weir? It’s _my_ orders you keep disrespecting!” she said, managing to raise her voice without actually screaming.

“First, you’re rarely in a position to give me orders,” he explained, trying to keep calm. “And second, your orders are usually unreasonable – like not being allowed to exercise two weeks after _you_ gave me the all clear.”

“No, I didn’t!” she snapped. “I simply said you could leave the Infirmary because we were running out of beds and you were being a pain in the ass!”

Bob didn’t seem bothered by any of this and continued walking down the path to the village. However, John could see him and there was an air of disproval radiating from him in waves.

“Can we leave this for another time?” He was trying to keep his voice level, leaving no room for argument. “Should I remind you how many times _you_ ’ve disrespected an order?”

She didn’t answer, but a few feet later she had fallen a few steps behind him, not in a demonstration of humility, but as a way to defy him with this dramatic show. He felt a need to slap her and it had to be noted that she was the only woman who could raise such urges in him. Compared to her, Rodney’s ego was bearable. He was even starting to _miss_ Rodney. At least he listened to reason when people were pointing guns at them.

o0o0o

The symptoms were consistent among the sick – persistent headaches, vomiting, fever, confusion and occasionally convulsions. It was hard to collect samples because of the patients’ general distrust, but Catherine was nearly certain it wasn’t their rogue virus. It was rather a form of meningitis - a classic and rather infectious one, but not impossible to treat.

“These people need to get to a hospital, John,” she said, after seeing the fourth patient. She looked exhausted, the long trip to the village and the constant tension between them had wrung even more energy out of her. “We at least need to call Atlantis for help so we could improvise an infirmary,” she pressed on as they headed for the next patient’s house.

He could see her point, but he was even more aware of the suspicious looks the men were giving them as they went from household to household, unable to do much for the sick than give them some pills and warn them to avoid contact with the other villagers. Compared to other missions, Catherine did seem much more involved and even chatted with her patients, but they were posing as messengers of the ancients and people seemed to expect better results.

“Can you at least figure out what’s going on?” he asked her softly.

“It’s meningitis, I think. Something of the sort, anyway,” she explained. “I can’t run any testes to make sure, but it’s not like the other encounters we’ve had with the virus. It can still be deadly, especially left untreated.”

“Do what you can for them. I don’t wanna get on the bad side of the locals as long as Teyla is under their… supervision,” he said wearily.

Catherine sighed. “Of course our safety comes before that of a handful of sick women and children,” she commented.

If he didn’t feel the bitterness behind her comment, John would have served her a biting remark. As it was, he settled for making a noncommittal sound and joining her in the last hut. “Do your best, Doc.”

She wasn’t very amused by his comment and even less amused by the situation. Their last patient was a child no older than three that, by all appearances, already stood on death’s threshold. She took in a deep breath to steady herself and knelt by the boy. He was burning up and stretched an arm out, brushing his little fingers against her cheek. She tensed and, when she turned back to John, her eyes were brimming with tears. “Give me my kit,” she asked, her voice carrying an undertone of determination.

It wasn’t a good idea and John had felt it from the start, but he couldn’t refuse. He held his P-90 tighter, preparing for the worst as he handed her the kit. Something told him that however this was going to play out, it was going to be against them. The men didn’t look like they were eager for a miracle and the women were just as suspicious. Even the boy’s mother was eyeing them wearily, waiting for Catherine to slip up.

The doctor took out her scanner, ignoring the uneasy air that surrounded them. She barely had a chance to run her scanner twice over the boy’s body before his mother started screaming that she was trying to steal the boy’s soul with her infernal device.

“I’m just trying to-“ she started explaining herself when the woman grabbed her hand, throwing the scanner against the wall.

“Witch!” the woman cried.

“Are you crazy? Your boy will die unless I can treat him!” Catherine snapped, trying to fight her way out of the woman’s grasp.

John managed to pry the woman’s hand open and pull Catherine away from her, but she kept screaming “Witch!” and drawing more people to the house. He could feel the situation slipping out of control, but the worst part was seeing Bob and a few of his guards make their way through the mob already huddled around the door.

“What happened?” Bob asked in a gruff voice.

“She tried to kill my boy and steal his soul!” the woman accused.

“You can’t think something like that!” Catherine protested.

“Shut up, woman!” the leader snapped. “We’ve had enough of your airs!”

For a second, Catherine looked lost for words – a situation John wasn’t about to let her screw up. “She’s been trying to save your people,” he said before she could open her mouth.

“She’s been working her magic on my people!” Bob hissed. “I know her kind. We’ve seen witches before and we know one when we see one!”

John had had enough of their backward ideas by now and the fact that Catherine was fretting like a caged bird wasn’t helping their cause. “There are no witches!” he said, trying to snap them back to reality. “No one’s after your souls. We’re here to help! We can’t do that without-“ He couldn’t finish his sentence before the woman fell to her knees before Bob.

“She cursed my child!” she hollered, looking completely out of her mind as she pulled at her hair.

“I did not!” Catherine said indignant.

“Didn’t I tell you to keep quiet?” John hissed, pulling Catherine behind him.

“She said that if I don’t let her work her spells, little Francis was going to die!” the woman insisted, leaving Catherine bewildered.

“This is not what happened!” John stepped in.

“You mean Francis isn’t going to die?” Bob questioned.

John threw a glance to the red-faced child on the bed. He didn’t look strong enough to last the night, but whatever he told them now, was probably going to bite them in the ass later. “She’s a doctor,” he said in a steady voice, “she can cure him.”

Catherine quietly shook her head. “Not like this.”

“Our own boyla couldn’t do anything for the boy, I doubt a mere woman could do better,” Bob said, spitting out the word _woman_.

“Of course she can’t if you don’t let her!” John insisted, feeling Catherine scowling at him. “I can assure you she is very well prepared and-“

“You have no authority to talk to me as long as you are led by a _woman_ ,” Bob hissed. “But it is the New Year and I’m feeling generous – if the boy lives, we shall let you both leave as long as you never return to bother us,”

Catherine let out an exasperated sigh, but held her tongue.

“If he dies?” John asked carefully.

“If he dies, he dies,” Bob said amiably. “And it will prove he was cursed by her wretched hand! She will be burned as the witch she is!” His judgment sounded definite and John could feel Catherine tense behind him.

He had no intention to let things end that way. Gripping his P-90 tighter, he gave Bob a long look. “Are you sure that’s how you want things to go down?”

Bob’s men were making their way to the front of the mob, holding their own guns ready. “You don’t have much of a choice, I’m afraid,” Bob told them with a grin. “Hand over your weapon and your life will be spared!”

“If you really want my weapon, you can take it yourself and shove it up-“

But he couldn’t tell Bob what exactly he could do with his weapon because Catherine placed a hand on his shoulder, all too familiar with his train of thought. “It’s alright, John,” she whispered. “There’s no point in antagonizing them. As long as you’re free, you can help me. It won’t help anyone if we’re both held prisoner. Not even Teyla,” she added with a twinge of regret, heading over to the mob.

“Don’t!” he shouted, unable to stop her as she was being surrounded by the guards.

“We can get this over with right here and now,” Bob explained. “Why don’t you just hand over your weapon?”

Reluctantly, John lowered his P-90. “I could kill you right now,” he said matter-of-factly, his rage against Catherine’s naivety bubbling.

“And you’d both die with me,” Bob hissed, his men readying their weapons.

The situation was worse than disadvantageous. He could easily take out a couple of men before they could even scratch him, but he had less control over Catherine’s situation and absolutely no control after those first couple of guards fell. And he still had to think of Teyla. Gritting his teeth, he lowered his weapon, praying that Catherine had been right and there was still something he could do for her.

His hopes dwindled as the guards encroached on him and led him to his very own prison cell, away from the pesky witch they needed to get ready for burning. He waited for them to leave before he started pacing the cell, looking for a ridiculous way out and wishing he had McKay with him to try his luck with the lock.

o0o0o

The witch’s cell was somewhere underground, well guarded and heavily warded against magic. At least, that was what they had told Catherine when they had locked her in the dank cellar she was now stuck in. The dark prevented her from seeing her surroundings, but she was going to take them at their word, not that she held any regard for superstitions and her lack of magic talent prevented her from disappearing despite the wards.

She was so tired, that when she had groped her way to the plank that served as a bed, she was convinced she was going to instantly fall asleep, regardless how desperate her situation was. Unfortunately, she had been wrong. Whenever she closed her eyes, all she could see was a dying child and a desperate mother. The sound of New Year’s celebration didn’t help either. Despite the epidemic going on, the locals were dead set in continuing their lives as usual. Maybe it was one of those desperate attempts to hold on to normality, but the thought did nothing to ease her mind – the boy was going to die without medical help and she was going to die because they kept her from helping.

She tried to focus on something else, like the fact that John had tried to help her despite the danger hanging over both of them. Sure, he was doing his duty, but it was nice to think there was more than that. Would Rodney have stepped up for her? Unfortunately, her imagination didn’t stretch that far. She wondered if John was going to be mad at her for giving in so easily, but she soon remembered he was probably never going to see her again. Maybe he felt relieved at that thought. That was an unfair presumption and she knew it. She knew that he was more than willing to sacrifice himself for others, even when he couldn’t stand them – such as herself.

She managed to steer her thoughts away for about half an hour before they went back to their previous track. She hated to feel helpless before death and the fact that she could have saved Francis’ lives if it weren’t for the local superstitions was driving her mad.

Catherine leaned against the damp wall, gathering her knees to her chest and hiding her face behind them. Francis could have grown up and lived a long, fulfilling life. With that last thought, she started crying for the first time in years.

o0o0o

It had been a long, thankfully uneventful night for Teyla. Her guards weren’t particularly accommodating, but they weren’t very intrusive, either. They probably wished she was someplace else just as much as she did and kept a distant eye on her, only checking in if it was absolutely necessary. However, they had made sure she couldn’t access the Gate and, despite her protests that it was vital to contact Atlantis, they had simply dismissed her.

Now, she was five hours overdue reporting back and Elizabeth was probably worried. Teyla herself was trying to remain calm hours after losing contact with John and Catherine and she had resolved to give them three more hours before giving her guards the slip and going after them.

At one point, she couldn’t be sure of the time, the guard changed and the new ones looked a lot more shifty than the first, refusing to give her any news from the town or explain why they were keeping tighter watch on her. Instinct told her something was wrong, but she didn’t want to compromise their situation by acting rashly. She was going to wait for the three hours to pass, then she was going to find a way to escape.

“Want some water?” one of them had asked her toward morning.

“Yes, please,” she said sweetly, taking his water flask and drinking deeply. She measured him up discreetly – it was just one of them and she was certain she could easily dispose of him. The other four would have been a bit more trouble should she end up fighting them for her freedom. They were armed soldiers and they looked much more professional than the one in front of her. She decided it was safer to go after information at this point, so she handed him the flask back with a shy smile. “Thank you, but why do I feel so unwelcome here?” she asked, hoping this was a good conversation starter.

The man hesitated. “I don’t know how things work where you come from, but here, decent women don’t usually speak without being spoken to.”

“You did ask if I wanted water,” Teyla tested, noting that the man didn’t look very bright, either.

After hesitating a little more, he nodded. “I did.”

“So, I was being spoken to. Problem solved,” she explained, hoping it would stick. Apparently, it did. He threw his companions a quick glance before turning back to her. He seemed rather fascinated and confused by such a talkative female. He didn’t look older than twenty three. Had he been Athosian, she would have long taught him some respect. “Why would women around here be so quiet?” she asked diplomatically.

He shrugged. “You’ve always been instruments of destruction. It makes sense to keep you in check,” he said. “You make children, raise them, take care of the home and bring down our leaders. As long as you stick to those first three activities, no one has anything against you.”

Teyla was biting her lip, holding back on a sharp remark. “You think I’m here to bring down your leader?”

“I don’t know why you’re here, but from what I hear, you’ve already brought down _your_ leader. That ‘doctor’ woman,” he said, spitting out the word ‘doctor’, “has been ordering and mocking your leader all night.”

Teyla had to admit Catherine was usually a bit too bossy and John seemed to bring out the worst in her, but at least she knew they were still OK. “I guess that stepped on a few toes,” she said, shrugging.

“You guess? She’s the perfect example of what happens when you let a woman have her way, just like Dalera did to Alden.”

“Who?” she asked, puzzled.

“The founder of our town had refused ascension in favour of his lover, a treacherous woman called Dalera. They say she was incredibly beautiful and had enslaved him with her charms, so much so that when the time came for him to ascend, he chose to stay behind so he could be with her. It didn’t take long before she sought the comfort of another’s arms, those of his brother Saul. Alden was so broken hearted that he soon killed himself. All that he left behind was a book on how women should be treated if the man wants peace in his home. We have lived by it ever since.”

Teyla listened to him baffled. Great! A frustrated man just had to write his frustrations down and ten thousand years later a bunch of idiots were still following his lead. It was amazing how people could cling to anything that looked like a rule, outdated and out of place as it might have been.

“Have you ever thought that, maybe, not all women are like that?” she ventured.

Before he could answer, he was called by his companions, leaving her just as uneasy about the situation as she had been before chatting with him.

o0o0o

It came as no surprise that little Francis didn’t make it through the night. John had learned about the boy from the guards that were dragging him very politely towards the town square where the New Year celebrations were going to be completed by a public execution – the best event to spend with the family!

He had spent all night looking for a way out, but nothing had worked. The locks had been far too solid for such a dingy little cell, the guards were incorruptible and too smart to walk into the cell when he pretended he was dying and had been completely unimpressed by his threats and shouts. All in all, the odds were against them and he could only hope Atlantis would figure out something was amiss when they didn’t report back and were going to send in backup. Hopefully, that will happen while they were still alive.

On their way to the square, he tried to grab the guard’s gun, earning himself a punch in the liver and the loss of their politeness. The rest of the way had been a long, tired out beating. Not that he didn’t fight back, but four against one was a bit too much even for him. By the time they reached the square, he already looked worse than after any sparring match with Ronon and he could swear he had two broken ribs and there was no part of his body that didn’t ache. What was worse, he couldn’t find any way to help Catherine and he was starting to realize there really wasn’t a way out for her.

There was a large pyre with a stake in the centre of the square, surrounded by more people than he could ever imagine would be willing to take part in such an exercise. He had to remind himself that there had been such a thing as the Inquisition back on Earth and witch burnings had been a favourite pastime. It was nearly physically painful to see that the women were more engrossed in the whole spectacle than the men themselves, some even trying to give their children a better view of the execution.

They were in this mess because they had tried to help and he promised himself that, if they made it out of this alive and he ever felt the stupid impulse to take Catherine on another mission, he would make sure she was as bitter and uncooperative as she had ever been rather than let her get herself into trouble by being too involved again. Some people worked much better from within their protective shell and, by the looks of it, she was definitely one of those people.

He realized the main attraction of the morning was being dragged to the stage when the onslaught of vegetables had ceased hitting him and a low murmur made its way through the crowd. He couldn’t see anything in the centre yet, but they were still pushing him forward, so it was safe to presume he had front row seats for this. Lucky him.

He would have given anything not to reach that front row, but the odds were already against him and a few steps later he finally had a clear view of the pyre and of Catherine walking toward it, her head held high as if she was going to be awarded a title. Knowing her, this was just another of her defence mechanisms. It reminded him of himself and he wondered just how many times had he walked towards his own death with that very same attitude. OK, there had probably been a bit more swearing on his part, but the general feel was the same.

When Bob stepped forward, accompanied by a religious-looking man, dressed all in black, all murmurs stopped. Bob cleared his throat dramatically and began reciting the accusations. “We have gathered here today, on this first day of the New Year, when all is forgiven, to cleanse this witch of her wickedness. She has been accused and found guilty-“

“This is nonsense!” John intervened. “She hasn’t even been on trial!”

Bob raised his hand to hush him and one of the guards shoved the butt of his gun between his ribs. “Last night was her trial,” Bob explained. “The death of the child is proof enough that she has been using magic on our people.”

“But the child was dying anyway,” John pressed on despite the threat of another hit.

“Yes, but none of the others have. She has used her magic on the others, one of them was even able to eat this morning,” Bob replied triumphantly.

John looked at him in disbelief – he was a madman. “What is wrong with people recovering from illness? That was why we were here. Besides, you said the child was the one she used magic on,” John insisted.

“She cursed the child and bewitched the others. She used her powers to drive the sickness out of the others and into the child. She even used her magic on me!”

OK, that was new, John had to admit. Bob looked rather healthy and even Catherine, who had ignored the whole scene until then, turned to look at him. “How did she do that?”

“I have been having… strange urges ever since you arrived. My wife didn’t please me anymore…”

The crowd was overrun by a new murmur, the women displaying quick gestures that were probably intent to ward off demons. You’d think they’d never heard of a man lusting after a pretty face before.

“You know…” John hesitated, “That’s not as unheard of as you might think…”

The silence that followed was broken by Catherine who had probably been long driven past her bullshit-acceptance limit and had never been good at holding her tongue. “You’re going to kill me because you had a wet dream?!”

There was another second’s silence before the crowd erupted into a cacophony of screams and shouts and protests that not even Bob could calm down. A couple of old women fainted and some of the guards looked particularly guilty. The children were mostly confused, except for the ones that weren’t and were finding the situation extremely amusing. He could make out words like “Blasphemy!”, “Whore!”, “Witch!” being shouted and Bob’s face was turning a distinct shade of red. If his hands weren’t bound, John would have slapped his forehead in exasperation. When he finally caught her eye, he knew just how terrified she really was by this.

Eventually, the clamour died down and Bob was able to resume his sentencing. “As you can see, the accusations are grave and the death of the child has, as I’ve already said, proven them true. Thus, the high priest has decided that this wild, reckless and wicked woman must die before she causes the demise of our community through her magic.”

“I thought all was forgiven on the first day of the New Year,” John insisted, desperate to at least buy some more time.

“Everything is forgiven, but not by us. The Ancestors can forgive and they will do so once she is among them in the afterlife,” Bob assured him, waving for two boys to begin tying Catherine to the stake.

“The Ancestors aren’t interested in anything except themselves and they wouldn’t interfere in any way,” Catherine shouted, holding her hands out for the boys to tie her up. She had no chance of escape anyway.

John, on the other hand, was struggling for the both of them, unable to stay calm and watch her dying. “You’ll pay for this,” he promised Bob. “I will kill you. Sooner or later, I will kill you!” It wasn’t the first time he felt such rage. It was the kind of overwhelming, breathtaking feeling he had whenever his friends were in danger and he was powerless to help. Somehow, this time was different. He couldn’t quite pin it down, but there was more than just helplessness behind his rage and he knew he wasn’t joking – Bob was going to die if he ever got out of there. He felt capable of nuking the entire town and it scared him almost as bad as the idea of letting Catherine die in the flames.

He was distracted by a quiet discussion going on behind him.

“I feel sorry for her, she’s kind of cute,” said a young man, as if embarrassed someone might overhear.

“Yeah, maybe they’d have gone easier on her if she were married,” added his companion. “You could claim her as your wife, if you like her so much!” he added sarcastically. “If you’re sure you could hold her in check afterwards, that is.”

John wasn’t sure what they meant by claiming her as their wife, but there was an underlying message there – they might leave Catherine go if she were married. At least, they wouldn’t go ahead with the burning. Before he could give much thought to the plan, seeing her tied up to the stake and the satisfied smirk on Bob’s face, he pushed passed his guard and shouted, “So you’re just going to burn my wife?!”

Another stunned silence followed in which he could feel Catherine’s eyes burning into him.

Bob’s smirk faltered, but it soon broke into a loud laugh. “This woman is your wife?”

John was wondering why the guards weren’t trying to stop him anymore. Maybe he was finally doing something well. “Yes, she is.”

“I don’t buy it. You would have said so until now,” Bob said.

“I like to keep my private life to myself,” John said with a smile. Catherine was probably never going to let him live this down, but at least she’d be alive to do it.

“Is he speaking the truth?” Bob asked her out of the blue, before he could give her any hint of what his plan was. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure what his plan was either.

She hesitated just a fraction of a second, looking for John in the now agitated crowd. “Yes,” she said, her voice surprisingly steady.

To John’s satisfaction, Bob looked very confused and the guards released him. It was a nice change. Rubbing his wrists, he climbed onto the platform and went straight to Catherine, his _wife._

“What is the meaning of this?” asked the priest, stepping in between them.

“She’s married, she’s his responsibility,” Bob said. “This is the law. As the husband, he is entitled to punish her as he sees fit.”

The priest didn’t move away. He took off his hood, exposing a skull-like face, with cold, grey eyes that sent shivers down John’s spine. “The law applies to true believers,” the priest said in a gravely voice, “capable of controlling their wife, not to foolish outsiders that let their women control them.”

“If you’ll let us leave, we’ll be out of your hair in no time,” John offered, still hoping to untie Catherine and be off without any more conflict.

“And leave her soul to be lost?”

“I’ll take that risk,” John smiled. “Wouldn’t you, sweetie?” he asked Catherine. Fortunately, she was far too shocked by the _sweetie_ to do more than nod.  

“I wouldn’t,” the priest added. “The fact that you would just shows that you’re just as lost as she is and that you need salvation as well.”

“What?” John was never able to follow the train of thought of fanatics and this wasn’t an exception.

“Tie him to the stake as well,” Bob ordered his guards. “We can at least be generous and let them die together.”

“No!” Catherine shouted, struggling for the first time that day. “He isn’t guilty of anything! He isn’t even my husband! He just lied to save me! Leave him alone!”

It was too late for John to try and hush her and the look on the priest’s face told him they were playing right into his hands.

“Oh, but he is,” the priest assured her. “Isn’t this nice? You won’t die alone and your marriage will be forged in fire, a match made by the stars.”

John couldn’t figure out what the old fool was talking about, but Catherine was cursing and swearing and even the priest looked taken aback by it. He was making all sort of gestures to ward him against her magic.

The rope that now bound them together dug deep into his skin. They were tied back to back, with the stake between them.

“Why the hell did you do this?” she hissed, finally giving up on the cursing.

“It looked like a good idea and we had nothing to lose,” he answered. “OK, maybe I was wrong on the second part.”

“How about the first?” she hissed again, her throat hoarse from the earlier shouting.

“It might have worked,” he tried to shrug. “Bob was about to let us go, at least.” Strangely enough he didn’t mind being tied up too much. He didn’t want to survive seeing another friend die before his eyes without him doing everything possible to save them.

On the priest’s cue, someone stepped forward with a lit torch and threw it under the pyre.

He could feel her tense behind him, so he wriggled his wrist until he was able to catch her hands in his.

She held on tight, as if he were her lifeline. “I’m not afraid of dying, you know,” she said, “I’m afraid of the pain. Do you think the smoke might kill us first?” she asked hopefully. She probably knew the answer to that one already.

He grabbed her hands tighter, unable to say anything else. As the flames were growing around them, he felt a familiar tingling sensation and the scene soon changed to the interior of a spaceship. Still bewildered, he held on to Catherine’s hands and she gripped on as tight as she could.

“Nice to see the lovebirds are having fun,” Colonel Caldwell commented, his voice tinged with relief as well as humour. “I have to say the rope thing is a bit too kinky for my taste, but whatever rocks your boat.”

Catherine was left speechless. John was wondering if she was still conscious, but the tight grip she still held on him told him the she was. She was probably worried she might have ended up in hell.

“Just in time, I see the cavalry is finally learning,” John commented, his voice hoarse from the smoke. “Can someone untie us, please? And don’t take embarrassing pictures.”

Teyla stepped forward and quickly undid their bindings.

“It’s so nice to see you’re safe. When the guards finally told me what they had in store for the First Day’s celebration, I was afraid we wouldn’t make it in time.”

“Thanks,” John whispered, rubbing his sore wrists.

“You should thank Dr Weir, when you didn’t report on time, she urged us to get here faster.”

Still looking stunned and confused, Catherine turned to John and wrapped her arms around him in a grateful hug.


	10. Episode 10:  (Ex)change

**Episode 10: (Ex)change**

“This is not good,” muttered Catherine to herself, finally looking away from her microscope. She couldn’t be sure yet, but, if the latest tests were conclusive, they were facing a new threat in the form of an obnoxiously deadly bacteria undergoing constant mutation.

She prepared a new test sample and checked again.

“Fucking great! As if it wasn’t enough of a pain in the ass already!” she cursed and grabbed her radio.

“Doctor Weir, can you hear me?” she called impatiently.

After a second, the radio hissed to life. “How can I help you, Doctor Spencer?”

“Do you have a minute? I have to talk to you. It’s urgent.” Catherine could already see the look on the other woman’s face – her urgent news was never good news, after all.

As if she could read her thoughts, Elizabeth Weir took a deep breath. “Should we expect another quarantine?” she asked.

“Not as far as I know,” Catherine assured her. “But things aren’t looking too bright in the near future.”

“I’ll be in my office.”

Catherine turned off her radio and put it away.

Just once, she wished she weren’t the barer of bad news.

o0o0o

Teyla was already in Doctor Weir’s office, with a giant, hairy Athosian man by her side, when Catherine arrived.

“Doctor Spencer, you’re just in time,” Elizabeth greeted her. “Halling here was telling me of a possible outbreak on one of the planets the Athosians trade with.”

Elizabeth didn’t look as grim as the news of a new outbreak entitled. Still, people can build up tolerance to the hardest of situations and Elizabeth was always calm under pressure.

“Then I’ll prepare the medical team for departure. We still have some vaccine ready,” Catherine said.

“It’s actually good news,” Elizabeth cut in. “Apparently, the locals managed to stave it off by themselves. The planet has an incredibly diverse flora that we have yet to study in detail. They’re known in three Solar Systems for their trade in medicinal plants, or so Halling assures us.”

“They have access to a natural cure?” Catherine asked incredulously, turning to Halling. She couldn’t have wished for better news at that moment, but she doubted luck was smiling on them, especially considering how tricky the bacteria was turning out to be.

“They have helped my people over the years with many plagues and ailments,” Halling confirmed. “Their planet is blessed with herbs of great potential and their healers have passed on their knowledge over the generations, some dating back to the times of the Ancestors. If anyone could come up with a way to fight this, they have the highest chances to.” There was admiration in his voice and he seemed to have great confidence in these people.

“I know we already have a vaccine, but I thought it wouldn’t hurt to check this out,” Teyla added with a smile, reminding Catherine why she was there to begin with.

Under the circumstances, Halling’s lead couldn’t have come at a better time. Maybe they _were_ lucky for once.

“Actually, this was exactly why I wanted to talk to you,” Catherine told Elizabeth. “Recent test indicate the bacteria is mutating rapidly, adapting to our antibiotics and vaccines. If it continues changing at this rate, we’ll need to start looking for an alternate cure. I can’t even guarantee the immunization we got after our previous encounter with it will keep us safe in the future. I’ve never seen something like this. It’s like it has a mind of its own.” It was an absurd idea, but the only alternative was that someone was changing it as it infected other planets. Nothing of the intel they had gathered so far led them to believe there was someone orchestrating this whole mess.

“I take it you advise us to look into this,” Elizabeth said, steepling her fingers.

“Yes,” Catherine agreed eagerly. “Definitely!”

o0o0o

A few hours later, John, Catherine and Halling were standing in front of the Gate, waiting for Elizabeth to clear them for departure. They were in full gear, but Catherine’s medical equipment outweighed their arsenal for this trip – she needed to get very in-depth readings of the locals’ symptoms. She had also insisted they all wear surgical masks as a minimum precaution against infection. They looked like something out of a video game.

“Remind me again,” John asked her, “why McKay isn’t joining us this time?”

“He doesn’t have a Ph.D. in alien flora, he said,” Catherine told him with a shrug. “I can’t blame him. I hate alien pathogens as much as the next person.”

Not that they needed McKay for this mission – he had nothing tech-related to do, plants really weren’t his forte and he could really pass on hearing him complain about his allergies on the way there. Catherine was enough. Plus, they didn’t even need a full team for this – the fewer people got involved, the better. Still, it was interesting to watch Rodney develop an increasingly efficient skill for weaseling out of off-world missions that had anything to do with their favorite bacteria.

“Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have Ronon with us, though,” John insisted, a nagging feeling in the back of his mind rearing its head.

“Unless he can beat a bacteria into submission, I don’t see what help he can be this time,” Catherine dismissed his suggestion.

It was nice to see her use her sharp tongue for friendly banter, rather than cutting others down finally. Come to think of it, their relationship had taken a much friendlier turn since they nearly got burned alive together. Gave a new meaning to ‘fire-forged friendship’.

“John, you have a go,” Elizabeth informed them as the Gate came to life. “Please don’t take any risks!”

John gave her a salute. “Yes, sir!” he said with a wink and led the way through the Gate.

o0o0o

The other side of the Gate opened on a summer landscape with clear skies and luxuriant vegetation as far as the eye could see. Much closer than the vegetation, however, were the guns aimed right at their heads and the people holding them with very sure hands. Something wasn’t right with this picture.

“We’re here in peace,” John assured them, raising his arms to prove he wasn’t a threat. “We hear you took care of some medical issues we’d like to know more about,” he continued, giving Halling a wary look. The guy looked just as confused as he was.

“They are not local,” said the Athosian.

“I was hoping you weren’t going to say that.” John took another look at their welcoming committee and one of them caught his attention. He knew that face. On a second glace, even the weapons looked familiar. “You guys work for Kolya, don’t you?” he said resigned.

“I’m glad to see you’re as perceptive as always,” Kolya’s smug voice came from behind them.

“We gave you the stone, what the hell do you want from us now?” Catherine suddenly joined in, unable to keep out of trouble. “You can at least wait until we find something else before you steal it from us.”

“If it isn’t the pretty little lady from last time,” Kolya said with a smug grin. He stepped closer. “I must congratulate you, Sheppard, on your choice of bodyguards. Not that she’s very threatening, but I bet she does a fine job at night.”

Catherine choked before spitting out a “Not as good as your Mom!”

John grabbed her arm and pushed her behind him. Not that he didn’t appreciate a ‘your Mom’ joke, but it really didn’t suit Catherine and what the hell was he supposed to do if he couldn’t make stupid jokes in the face of danger? The nice doctor was never allowed to make ‘your Mom’ jokes again. He was going to send out a memo when they got back.

In the meantime, he threw her a warning look, hoping she’d take a hint and stay quiet until they diffused the situation.

“I was expecting a higher level of bad jokes from you, Kolya. You’re the sleazy villain, but this is beneath even you,” John said, still keeping a hand on Catherine’s arm just in case. “Why don’t you cut to the chase and tell us what you’re after so we can get to the part where you lose, already.”

“This time, it’s you I’m after,” Kolya said cheerfully. “Drop your weapon, Colonel! We’d better do this nice and efficiently. I need you in one piece, after all.”

“Not that I don’t appreciate your concern, but I can stay in one piece just as well with my weapon in hand,” John smiled. He was much more worried than he let on, but he wasn’t going to show any weakness to Kolya.

“Well, we can do this the hard way, then.” Kolya’s smirk broadened. He gave his men a curt nod and instantly Halling was on the ground, his leg bleeding profusely. “Next time, I’ll aim for something vital,” he said, rubbing his hands like the cliché villain he was. “And if you still refuse, the girl’s next.”

Catherine pulled out of John’s grip and knelt at Halling’s side to administer first aid.

John would have loved nothing better than to wipe that grin off his face with a bullet, but they were outnumbered and they were probably dead before he even aimed his weapon. He couldn’t chance it. He cursed under his breath and warily put his gun down by his feet.

“Kick it over,” Kolya instructed. “And any other weapons you have on you. I’m not stupid.”

He wanted to contradict Kolya on that last point, but Catherine was busy patching up the Athosian and he didn’t want to give her more work. He pulled out his spare pistols and a couple of hunting knifes he had strapped to his ankles. “That’s it!”

Kolya didn’t look convinced, but he signaled his men to proceed. In a split second, they were surrounded by the rebel Genii. John caught a glimpse of Catherine being knocked unconscious before he joined her in the land of the concussed.

o0o0o

“Unscheduled off world activation,” Chuck screamed as Elizabeth stormed out of her office.

“Do we have a signal?” she asked. They only had one team out and it wasn’t the kind of mission that should bring any trouble.

“It’s Halling, I think,” he confirmed. He was the only Athosian that was currently away and the signal was undeniably the one they assigned to his people.

“Lower the shield,” she said, holding her breath in anticipation. It couldn’t be good news.

To confirm her worries, Halling stepped through a minute later, alone and limping. He looked terrible.

Elizabeth climbed down the stairs to join him in the Gate room, calling for a medical team as she went.

“What happened?”

“The Genii. They were waiting for us by the Gate. They took the Colonel and Doctor Spencer,” he managed to say before collapsing.

Elizabeth hesitated a moment, before touching her earpiece. “Doctor McKay, we have an emergency!”

o0o0o

Four hours later, they still had no clue. Halling gave them the full story, as much as he had been conscious for. He didn’t really have much and Lorne’s team came back from the planet with even less intel. There was no trace of Genii or of their people.

Elizabeth tried to contact Ladon Radim, only to find out that he had gone missing a few days ago. The Genii had no knowledge of what happened, except that the rest of the team he had been with, had been found dead, drained by the Wraith.

“This is probably the most active Gate in this whole galaxy, second to ours!” Rodney complained, still going through the data from the Gate’s memory. “There’s no way to see what was the last dialed address and we still haven’t ruled out the possibility they got there by ship.” Reluctantly, he turned to Zelenka, who was muttering something in Czech – probably profanity, considering the situation. “You got anything?”

“No Rodney. With you distracting me every five minutes, I can barely keep up with my own thoughts,” he sighed.

“If we knew what they needed them for…” Rodney mused.

“Last time Kolya kidnapped John, it was to get his hands on Radim,” Elizabeth pointed out.

“But he’s missing, too,” Zelenka noted. “I’m assuming they already have him.”

Rodney wasn’t surprised he was the smartest man in the room. (Atlantis, really, but this wasn’t the time to gloat) “What if they don’t? What if they want to use John and Catherine as a bargaining chip again?”

It actually made sense once you looked at it like that. They had let Halling go, hence, he was of no use to them. If they already had Radim, Kolya would have been too busy torturing him, or already sending his head neatly wrapped with a bow back to his people. Conclusion, Radim was held by someone with an interest in John Sheppard. That didn’t narrow things down by much, but it was a start. He doubted Catherine was a target here, she hadn’t been on Atlantis long enough to make that many enemies outside of the city.

“That narrows the list of suspects to a quarter of the Galaxy,” Ronon intervened. “I still think it was the Genii. If you’d let me ‘talk’ to them, we’d have this sorted much sooner,” he assured them.

“But we can narrow the list further if we keep one thing in mind – Radim’s team was killed by Wraith,” Elizabeth reminded them.

A long silence followed, everyone considering the grim implications of her words. That was one hell of a common enemy. If Kolya thought he could negotiate with _them_ to get his vengeance, he was madder than anyone had given him credit. Then again, he was the guy who tortured John with a Wraith. He never was the sanest person in Pegasus and he already had a history with everyone involved.

“I’ll contact the Genii. Maybe they have something by now,” Elizabeth said, but she barely finished when the Gate came to life and she heard the now all too familiar ‘Unscheduled off world activation’. This time, it was the Genii and they had news.

o0o0o

John woke up to a splitting head ache and a churning stomach. Always the back of the head! Hadn’t these people learnt about sedatives? Didn’t they have chloroform? Every time they wanted you unconscious, they had to try to crack your skull open!

He rubbed the lump on his head while the images around him slowed down in their dance. He was somewhere dark that smelled strange… so the usual, then. There was a dank, musky smell in the air he was sure he had smelled before.

_A Wraith cell_

Once the realization downed on him, it was easier to make sense of what he was seeing, too. The vines in the walls were too organic to be anything else.

His heart started racing and he frantically started to look around for Catherine and Halling. He was alone.

He stood up on shaky feet and staggered to the door of his cell.

The hallway was deserted and dimly lit.

“Hey!” he shouted into the empty corridor, sure it was going to attract nothing but trouble.

When no one answered, he decided against calling out again. He already pushed his luck once. With nothing better to do, he started looking through the content of his pockets – there was nothing helpful there, not that he expected them to be that sloppy in their search.

“John!” he heard a faint voice from nearby.

“Catherine?” he called back, waves of relief washing over him. She was still alive.

“I think it’s me,” she said. “I can’t be sure until this headache goes away. Don’t these people know about chloroform?” she complained and John was happy to have the expert’s opinion on his side.

He looked around for her and eventually realized there was a small shape huddled against the wall of the next cell over. He walked to that side of his cell, thankful for the organic structure that didn’t leave them completely isolated.

“Where the hell are we?” she asked after he sat down on his side.

“Wraith cells, by the look of it,” he informed her. “No clue how we got here.”

“I’m not that worried about ‘how’. ‘Why’ is a far more pressing question right now,” she said.

Come to think of it, Catherine was right. Kolya was mad as a hatter, but he wasn’t known for his friendship with the Wraith. Last he checked, the Wraith working for him hated him just as much as he did. If he did capture them to hand them over to the Wraith, it definitely wasn’t with the best intentions.

“I don’t know, but I have the feeling we’re about to find out,” he said, hearing steps down the corridor.

o0o0o

P3G – 42X was, according to the Genii, the planet where Radim was spotted about the time John and Catherine had been captured. A team was immediately dispatched to take a closer look and determine if he was still there. Ronon, Teyla and Major Coburn joined the Genii hit squad on the other side of the Gate and hurried to the abandoned warehouse where the Genii spies had reported Radim might be held prisoner.

“If I see Kolya, I kill him,” Ronon said, setting his stunner to kill. He was done with all the niceties and second chances everyone kept giving the rebel Genii. “He crossed the line and danced over it once too many times,” he growled. “No one touches him. He’s mine.” He looked around menacingly, inviting anyone to contradict him.

It came as no surprise that no one did.

Teyla placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “We are right behind you,” she assured him. She was not going to stop him. No one was going to. Even Coburn knew better than to argue with Ronon. As for the Genii hit squad, they were probably relieved to shed the responsibility of dealing with their ex-commander.

When they finally reached the warehouse, it proved to be a ruin. To the untrained eye, it probably looked deserted, but they advanced with caution. The land still bore footprints if you knew where to look. Nothing too obvious, they had been careful, but not careful enough to avoid a Satedan’s trained eye.

“There should be about twenty, give or take a couple,” Ronon informed them after a quick recognizance and started walking towards the building with cat-like movements. The others followed, not quite as stealthy.

He was about ten feet away when the shooting started. He took out the shooter before he got the chance to kill anyone, but their presence was already revealed. With the element of surprise already lost, Ronon sprinted for the entrance and almost bumped into the second rebel who stormed out of the warehouse only to get stabbed by almost seven feet of angry Satedan.

The fight that followed was as brief as it was fierce. Two Genii were killed by the rebels, with many more casualties on the other side. Coburn, deciding to follow Sheppard’s patented example, threw himself in the thick of the fight, taking down three rebel guards and earning himself a knife in the arm. He ignored it, passed the P-90 to his other hand and continued to shoot down the hallways. Seeing him in action, Ronon decided he liked him.

Ronon doubted they were going to find Radim alive, if that was where they kept him to begin with. In all the commotion, Kolya probably decided to cut his losses and killed him at the first sign of intrusion rather than give him the chance to get rescued.

“Over here!” Teyla shouted from the upper level. She had taken advantage of their attack to slip by unhindered and check ahead.

Ronon ran up the stairs, throwing over the banister a stray rebel that was trying to make his escape, stupidly, down the stairs. He reached Teyla before she had a chance to go into the holding space that their ‘friends’ had been guarding. He almost pitied the horrified rebel that was holding a trembling gun to Radim’s head when they walked in.

“Stop where you are, or I kill him,” the man squawked.

Ronon took a step forward.

“I couldn’t care less,” he growled. “Tell me where Kolya is and I may let you live.”

“He’d kill me, anyway, if I betrayed him.”

“He might, but I definitely will if you don’t put that gun down,” Ronon promised.

Before the man got a chance to answer either way, his head exploded, bits of skull and brains splattering over an unconscious Radim.

Ronon spun around furiously to see who had the nerve to cut his interrogation short. It was one of the Genii, probably too worried about Radim’s fate to take that kind of a risk for Kolya’s whereabouts.

He took a menacing step toward the man, but Teyla stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “You would have done the same, had John been in that chair.”

He recognized the truth in her words. Unfortunately, when the firing finally stopped, Kolya was nowhere to be found and none of his men survived to be interrogated.

“We still have Radim,” Coburn said by way of consolation.

Indeed, they had him and if he wasn’t going to tell them everything he knew, he had another thing coming.

o0o0o

After a short argument with Coburn – the man had a knack for short arguments – the Genii agreed to accept the hospitality of Atlantis until Radim was cleared by their medical personnel and he shared all his knowledge of the Wraith incident.

Once in the Infirmary, they discovered that the reason for his unconsciousness was that he had been repeatedly stunned over a short period of time. A couple of hours and a few shots of adrenaline later, he was finally awake enough to cooperate, despite his monster migraine.

Doctor Mayer called Elizabeth to his bedside as soon as she considered it safe for him.

“Doctor Weir, we meet again under less than fortuitous circumstances,” he greeted in a faint voice.

“Indeed we are,” she said. “It’s a habit I wish we could break.” She gave him a thin smile, barely hiding her dislike for him. Even the darkest of circumstances weren’t bad enough to make his presence here welcome.

“Let me assure you of my full cooperation. I have no idea how I got here, but I have a pretty good idea why your men saved me,” he said.

“Then you know it is a matter of urgency, as well. Where are my people?”

“I wish I could help. I sincerely do,” he assured her. “Unfortunately I have no idea of their current whereabouts. I only know where the Wraith made the exchange with Kolya. Even after the last incident, I wouldn’t have believed him capable of this just to get his hands on me. Looks like I was underestimating him.”

“We all were, apparently. Can you give us an address for where the exchange took place?” Elizabeth hoped against hope that it would be enough and wouldn’t turn out to be another dead end.

“After being rescued, it’s the least I can do. Actually, I can give you not just the address, but also a good idea of what you’ll find there.”

o0o0o

The Wraith Queen that entered John’s cell was older than any Queen he’d ever had the misfortune to encounter. She was stunning the way being shot repeatedly with a blaster was stunning. Her tall frame was lean and gaunt, surrounded by the odor of decay that was probably more than just bad breath. Her eyes, however, were alive and burning with a mix of curiosity and hatred.

“John Sheppard,” she hissed, her voice grating on his ears.

Behind her, a couple of male Wraith, a head shorter than she was, but still towering menacingly over John, were overseeing the scene, standing guard over their Queen.

The gasp coming from Catherine’s direction reminded him she had yet to meet a Wraith Queen and she was justifiably disturbed.

“Looks like I’m famous. Even royalty knows me by name,” he said with a smug smirk. He wished he felt as confident as he let show.

“Famous?” the Queen laughed. “You’re infamous! So many of my kind have lost their lives at your hands and those of your people. I finally get to meet the legend.” She took a couple of steps forward, leaning towards him.

He did his best not to stagger backwards, away from her.

“Not as many as we’d like,” he assured her. He was looking out the corner of his eye for any way out. “But I can fix that for you.” He knew he was probably about to get killed, but as long as he kept their ire on him, he might buy Catherine some more time. He doubted his team would find them, but if they did, at least one of them should live long enough to greet them.

“So little regard for life,” the Queen snapped. “Were I not aware of your history, I’d wonder if it were courage or stupidity. Whichever it is, I might have a use for this destructive streak of yours.”

She stopped a step away from him, his back now pressed against the tangle of vines that separated his cell from Catherine’s. To his horror, she reached out a hand towards him and he had nowhere to retreat to from there.

“Kneel!” she ordered, her fingers brushing lightly against his hair. The entire power of her will seemed to push down on him, forcing him to obey.

“Kneel!” she insisted and he felt his feet begin to tremble under the pressure.

He put everything he had into defying her. He was not going to submit without a fight. He was probably going to get killed for his defiance, but he was going to get killed anyway, so why wait?

“I said, kneel!” Her voice resonated directly in his head, filling every neuron and sparking all his synapses. The need to obey was nearly unbearable, but he gritted his teeth and stood his ground. His right hand grabbed on to one of the vines at his back, holding on with what strength he had left. His head felt like it was splitting apart, every seam in his skull pulling apart and exploding into chards.

“Hey, ugly!” a shaky voice cut in surprisingly loudly. “Get away from him!”

Something flew above his head and hit the Queen in the side of her head, breaking her hold on him.

Relief flooded over John as he finally felt alone in his own skull. He was gasping for air like a drowning man and he could finally steady himself against the tangle of vines at his back. When he looked up again, he saw the Queen staring in stunned dismay at the cell next to his. A shoe was lying discarded on the floor.

“The hell do you think you’re doing?” John yelled at Catherine frantically.

“Saving your sorry ass!” she hissed, drawing nearer to the vines and John.

“With a shoe!?” he asked, incredulous.

“Yes, with a fucking shoe! Sorry I didn’t have my P-90 on hand!” Catherine retorted.

“It seems violence and stupidity are common traits among your people,” the Queen hissed, recovering from her indignation. “Bring me the female!”

“Come on,” John wheedled. “She’s not threat to you. I mean, seriously, a shoe? You can leave her alone.”

The Queen was not impressed. “She insulted me.”

One of the two Wraith guards walked into Catherine’s cell and grabbed her arm.

“Leave her alone!” John ordered, his brain agreeing with the stupidity comment.

Catherine wasn’t putting up any resistance, but if the looks she was throwing the Wraith could kill, they’d be out of there in no time. For someone afraid to step through a Gate, she showed surprising composure in actual life and death situations. John knew she was probably terrified, but she held up well.

The Wraith dragged her out of her cell and unceremoniously shoved her into John’s. Losing her balance, she fell at the Queen’s feet.

With surprising grace, the Queen reached down and grabbed Catherine by the hair, pulling her to her feet.

“Do you know how puny you are?” she asked, as if Catherine was a puppy who thought she was a hound.

“No, but I definitely know your breath could kill a dragon.”

She couldn’t just keep silent, could she? To his utter horror, the Queen’s hand reached for her chest with a hiss.

He charged blindly, shoving all his force against the hand she was holding Catherine with, forcing her to let go.

With a gasp, the little Doctor almost fell to the floor a second time. He grabbed her arm and pushed her behind him, barely in time to avoid the Queen’s wrath. The thing’s hand hit him instead to the side of his head. He almost passed out from the new wave of pain.

“You are right, she is not a threat,” the Queen conceded. “She is an asset and now I know how to use her.”

o0o0o

The planet Radim had given them as the place where the exchange had taken place turned out to be home to a small community of Wraith worshipers – small compared to the population of other planets, kind of scary as number of Wraith fanatics gathered in one place. Really scary, actually. It cost them the lives of two marines to capture one of the locals and they weren’t making much progress getting anything out of him, either.

Doctor Meyer ran a test on him and confirmed he was stuffed with Wraith enzyme. His real self was probably long gone and the idea of waiting for him to go through the full withdrawal process before they could properly interrogate him was driving Elizabeth to the brink of madness.

“Is there no way of speeding the recovery process?” she asked.

“Not unless you’re willing to take the risk of losing him and any info he might have,” the Doctor said, shaking her head. “There’s too much of the enzyme in his system and you’d be left with a vegetable if we pushed any harder. Even like this, there’s a risk his body won’t be able to take the strain.”

She had gone through the arguments in her head over and over again, but three days were too much to wait. They had already lost too much time, as it was.

She needed to be somewhere else – staying in the lab wasn’t helping anyone and she wasn’t getting any work done, either. Eyes brimming with tears of frustration, she walked straight into Rodney in the corridor.

“Any news?” he asked, steadying her after the impact.

She shook her head, unable to repeat the prognosis Doctor Meyer had given her.

He awkwardly wrapped an arm around her shoulders and, neither of them knowing how to react at the moment, pulled her into an embrace that proved more comforting that even he probably expected.

o0o0o

“I’m not sure what exactly you’re after, but I can assure you you’re not getting anything out of us,” John put on his most defying smile and pushed Catherine more firmly behind him. He hoped she wasn’t going to try to outdo him again in the bravado department. He definitely had to have a serious talk with her when they got home. He lost track how many he’d promised her in his head, but it was the third one he was planning this week. Certainly, it was the most serious since the incident with the penknife. Compared to the shoe, the penknife seemed like the sanest choice of weapon.

“You will willingly give me everything I want once I’m through with you,” the Queen assured him. “No one is able to say no once they have received the gift of life enough times.”

She wasn’t very explicit, but the implications were crystal clear. John had never seen anyone after they had gone through the process, but after his experience with Todd, he heard rumors about the Wraith worshippers and how they were bound to their masters. Being drained of life once with Todd was enough, he didn’t need that in his life again. He was sure he could handle whatever hold the Wraith might gain on him – he was apparently able to fight the mind control the Queens seemed to exert over others – but he wasn’t eager to try his luck. He did what he was doing best – try to stall until someone came to the rescue or an opportunity to escape came along.

“You sure that shoe didn’t do anything funny to your head?”

He felt the sharp dig of Catherine’s fingernails in the skin of his arm. She was apparently being the sane one now.

The Queen hissed in outrage. “I like your spirit. It will be so much more entertaining to watch you change.”

He gave the two guards a long look and back at the Queen. “Neah, I don’t think you guys are scary enough for me to need a change.”

Catherine’s nails dug deeper into his flesh and he wondered if she drew blood by now. “John,” she whispered in his ear, “shut up!” She didn’t need to say ‘please’, her voice was pleading enough.

“See? You’re upsetting my lady, here,” he said, trying to grab one of Catherine’s hands with the one she wasn’t piercing.

“I’m _not_ your lady!” she snapped and he turned an apologetic look to her.

“This isn’t the best moment to talk about this.” It was unnerving how she held their non-relationship more important than the mortal peril they were in at the moment.

“You are aware that I could kill her where she stands and you can do nothing to stop me,” the Queen hissed, her grin growing wider.

John shrugged. “Yeah, well… doesn’t hurt to try.”

“Oh, it hurts, Colonel Sheppard,” she purred, dragging her claws over the skin of his cheek, sending a shudder of disgust and fear down his spine. “And it will hurt worse if you fight it. The pain alone might actually kill you.”

He swallowed the knot of tension in his throat and plastered a cheeky smile on his lips.

Catherine was holding on tighter to his hand, clutching at him like a lifeline. He couldn’t understand why she tried so hard to put on a cold front when it was so obvious that she cared. Too much, at times.

“This doesn’t sound too fun,” John said through his teeth. “Why would I want to go through this?”

“You don’t have to. I can take you and shape you however I please and you won’t get to say a word.” She cupped his cheek in her bony, clawed hand and tilted his head up. “But there are risks involved and the more you fight me, the more chances are that you’ll get out of the process dead. And I want you alive and willing to fight by my side. For that, it’s better if you give yourself to me willingly. Feast on the strength I offer.”

John looked at her incredulously and amped up the shit-eating grin. “That shoe really _did_ do something to your brain, didn’t it?”

“Joke all you want, human. You’ll still have to chose – do this the hard, painful and possibly deadly way, or cooperate and the female doesn’t go through it at your side.” She squeezed her fingers, her claws digging into his skin.

“Hey! You didn’t say anything about Catherine before!” John startled. He had been stalling mostly for her sake, but he’d thought a swift death was all that was in store for her before. Even his torture would have bought her some time. There really wasn’t much of a choice. Even if he would have ever considered allowing one of his people to go through that, he was certain she wouldn’t be able to survive the procedure. For some reason, the thought of seeing her dead while under his care was unbearable.

“If I agree to cooperate, do you give me your word you won’t hurt her?” he offered through gritted teeth, ignoring the sting of the Queen’s claws on the skin of his jaw.

“Oh, yes,” the Queen assured him, easing her grip lightly. “As long as you survive, no one will lay a finger on her.”

It wasn’t their fingers John was worried about. And he trusted her as far as he could throw her – which was impossible, so the perfect description. Then again, what options _did_ he have? At least, if he took her offer, there was a chance Catherine would survive long enough for him to fake his way into the Queen’s trust and get her out. He had no idea how many… sessions it normally took for someone to surrender, but he suspected the time they would begin to be surprised by his resistance, would be about right. Sure, the procedure might actually work on him, but that was a thought he refused to contemplate at the moment.

“You can’t just agree like that!” Catherine objected. She shook his hand and he finally realized what awkward position he found himself in – the child-like woman gripping his hand for dear life on one side and the hag Queen of the Wraith digging her bony fingers into his chin on the other.

o0o0o

When Kusanagi walked into the lab with a mug of tea, Rodney greeted her with a grateful smile and took it from her hands. The woman looked flustered and thanked him, walking backwards to her desk once her mission was complete.

He wasn’t sure why he’d asked it as a favor of her, since she was always making tea, but he was trying to do something nice for Elizabeth and it probably rubbed off in his interactions with his assistant. Why she thanked him, though, was a completely different story that he was going to ponder when no one’s life was in danger.

“I need to check on… Elizabeth… On something with Doctor Weir,” he corrected himself, though no one was paying attention. “I’ll be off, then…” he mumbled.

He found Elizabeth in her office, hunched over her tablet at the desk. By his calculations, she hadn’t slept in about 48 hours and he was pretty sure that wasn’t healthy, despite his own sleep schedule often skipping more than that.

He cleared his throat to signal his presence, but she didn’t seem to hear him, absorbed by her reading.

Rodney hesitantly stepped through, unsure how he was supposed to act in the situation. He placed the mug of tea on the desk at her side and waited for her to notice the new addition.

It took a few seconds for the smell of tea to catch her interest. Her eyes traveled up from the mug to Rodney and she gave him a wary smile.

“Still no news?” she asked. The tone of her voice betrayed her resignation.

“No, but you should eat something. And so should I, for that matter. Care to join me?” he offered. She obviously needed a distraction and he definitely needed to get his blood sugar back to reasonable levels.

Elizabeth gave the tea another look, considering his offer. “You’re probably right,” she sighed and pushed herself out of the chair.

He walked her to the cafeteria, leaving the tea to turn cold on her desk.

o0o0o

Hot pain spread through his body like wild fire and John couldn’t think of anything else but the feeling of his life being sucked out of him. It left him through every nerve ending, searing through his skin and flowing into the creature above him.

He couldn’t understand why the Queen thought it would be less painful if he didn’t fight it – it hurt down to his bones. He didn’t remember it being this bad with Todd, but then it had been spread over multiple feeding sessions during the course of a day.

A cry of agony passed his lips, despite his attempts to hold it back.

He felt the Queen’s satisfaction in the pull of life leaving him.

Never in his life had he felt such an incredible soul-consuming pain and now it was coming back again and again and again.

He could at least have the sense to pass out and skip the conscious part of suffering, but his body had other plans. Even if the feeding process wasn’t over yet, he could anticipate the bliss of the moment when his life would flow back into him. That torrent of energy and euphoria was all he lived for, it seemed. It consumed him more wholly than the part when he was fed on ever could.

His hands trembled as he squeezed them into fists, his nails digging into his palms.

At least she was okay. He knew that. They gave their word and so far they kept it. Catherine was surprisingly quiet, but safe. She hadn’t said a word since this session began.

She watched. He knew she watched. Even when his hold on life was reduced to a thin tread, he knew she was watching.

He could even see her cataleptic expression on the inside of his eyelids by now. She probably kept watching out of a sense of guilt, to torture herself for whatever imagined slight she thought herself responsible for.

His thoughts shattered abruptly when the flow of life was finally reversed. His cells rejuvenating, his lungs drawing in air to feed fresh blood, his chest pushing into the Queen’s hand craving for more. He needed to seal their contact, to get every drop of life that had been taken away back.

It still hurt. The energy was burning his nerves, his blood cells, his skin, his organs with the life it was flooding back into them, bringing them back from the edge of death. It was a mixture of blinding pain and excruciating euphoria. Better than anything he ever felt and worse than the most painful torture he had been subjected to. The fact that he was enjoying it was even worse. He craved it. He needed to know that at the end of life came this.

Eventually, the hand pulled away from his chest and he stared unfocused at the Queen that loomed above him.

“Enough for today,” she said, almost motherly. “You’ll be of no use if you die and that is what’s going to happen if I push. You can rest now. I’ll let your female lick your wounds.”

John couldn’t form coherent sounds.

She left.

He felt small hands on him. Cold and soothing, they were checking if he was in one piece.

Why did she do that? She had been there. She had seen everything. He was fine.

“You idiot!” she whispered and she didn’t sound angry at all.

He felt his bindings being loosened, small fingers brushing against his skin as she worked on them.

He crumpled into her arms, too weak to stand on his own.

“It’s alright,” she soothed. “I’m here.”

She held him there in her arms like a child and he allowed himself to close his eyes. He wasn’t alone.

o0o0o

Catherine had no idea how much time had passed. It felt like years, for all she knew.

At first, the Queen came to their cell at regular intervals to subject John to ‘the procedure’. She drained his life to the brink of death then offered it back to him and left him broken in her care.

During the procedure, she refused to look away. It was the least she could do for him. It felt like abandoning, if she turned away.

She wasn’t in love with him, she realized. She was mad about him. She would have offered herself in his place if it had helped any. Once, she even tried grabbing the weapon off of one of their guards. She only won herself a minor concussion and the confirmation that they were indeed forbidden from harming her, or that concussion would have been much more serious. It didn’t mean she could try her luck stupidly on that assumption, though.

She wondered how much longer he could resist. Every time left him weaker and it pained her to watch him like that.

He was shaking in her arms, his body fighting to restore some sort of order to its workings, and she could do nothing about it. She could only hold him and talk him to sleep.

The last couple of times, the Queen had him dragged off somewhere else. Catherine could no longer watch and she could no longer be sure that she’d see him alive once they were done with him.

She paced her cell – ten steps on every side, more or less – and kept her fingers crossed that what they’ll bring back this time would still resemble John in more than the physical. The mere thought that this time would break him for good, or even worse, kill him, was driving her mad.

After an eternity of waiting, the door to the cell opened and John was being thrown back in. Shaking and sweating, eyes sunken and unfocused, he looked half-past dead, but he was conscious.

She knelt beside him and pulled his head into her lap, running a soothing hand through his hair. With the other, she was checking his pulse. It was erratic and she could count 200 beats/minute. This was bad. Really bad.

“John, can you hear me?” Her voice was quiet, but she couldn’t get the words past the lump in her throat otherwise.

He mumbled something incomprehensible and swatted at the hand she kept on his wrist.

“I need you to calm down,” she continued, her voice a little more confident. This was what she did, after all. “Breathe with me,” she insisted. “I won’t lose you! Breathe with me!”

She wasn’t sure if her instructions were being followed or not, but his breath slowed down a fraction and the hand he had used to swat at her was now lightly resting on hers.

“Please, don’t let them do this to you again! You’ll die if they do.”

His fingers squeezed gently on her hand and he finally focused his eyes on her. “I’m fine,” he mumbled, not sounding fine at all.

“Yes, you are,” she lied, taking his hand in hers and blinking her tears away. “You’ll be fine. We both will be.”

She leaned down and gently pressed her lips to his.

o0o0o

Once his head cleared enough to form coherent sentences that weren’t death threats aimed at everyone on Atlantis, their prisoner turned out to be a former Genii soldier. Apparently, he had been kidnapped by the Wraith and subjected to repeated feedings through which he had been pumped full of the enzyme that conditioned his loyalty as a Wraith worshipper. Now that its effects were wearing off, his people’s legendary hatred for the Wraith reawoke in him with a vengeance. If he weren’t so weak, the man might have volunteered to join them on whatever mission they set out on as long as it resulted in the destruction of the lab he had been tortured and conditioned in.

As far as the location of the lab was concerned, he didn’t have any useful information. All he could tell them was that it took the Wraith about an hour to arrive when their worshippers called. It was not reachable by Gate, that he knew for certain, since they never came to the planet he had been stationed on through there. He couldn’t even tell them if they were on a planet or a Hive Ship, he was too out of it when they had taken him there back at the beginning.

It was little to go on, but not impossible to work out a location from that. At least, that was what Rodney seemed to think and he dragged Zelenka back to the lab with him.

“The easiest thing is to rule out any planets with a Gate that are further than the one hour time frame he’s given us,” Rodney was saying, feeding the data into his tablet.

“Already on it,” Zelenka said, pushing his tablet in front of Rodney, his calculations already in progress. “I’ve added variables to account for the presence of a Hive Ship, too. It’s a possibility we obviously can’t ignore.”

“I still think it has to be a planet,” Rodney insisted. “A Hive would be easy to scan for and it’s more valuable in battle than it is as a research facility.”

“We can’t assume it’s used solely for research,” Zelenka pointed out.

Rodney rubbed his hands over his eyes in frustration. “Damn Wraith!” Their research practices were even scarier than some of their war tactics and he didn’t want to contemplate a mix of the two, though it was increasingly probable they did that.

His tablet chirped, alerting Rodney that the calculations were finished. “What did I tell you?” Rodney gloated at the Czech, turning his tablet around so both could look at the results. “There’s two possible planets they could come from. One doesn’t seem to have a Gate, so that is our planet.”

Zelenka nodded, but frowned at the results at a closer look. “Something doesn’t seem right, though.”

A few moments of silent contemplation later, Zelenka’s calculations were done as well. They came back with three possible planets, two of them matching Rodney’s results. “Looks like we’re looking at the wrong option,” he told the Canadian after a closer look. “P2X – 42D might have had a Gate at the beginning, but not anymore. What it still has is a rich concentration of oxygen.”

“But 3PT – 42F looks so much sneakier!” Rodney insisted. “Why do they have to dash my expectation?”

“It might have something to do with the lack of breathable atmosphere,” came the infuriatingly smug answer.

“It wouldn’t have bothered them if they were being _really_ sneaky,” Rodney insisted, not really sure why he was fixated on that.

Half an hour later, the rescue team made up of Ronon, Teyla, McKay and Major Lorne were in the Jumper and ready for departure.

“Get them back, Major!” Elizabeth said by way of goodbye.

No one dared state the obvious – that they might not have what to bring back.

o0o0o

John hadn’t returned yet.

She couldn’t be sure how long it had been, but it was the longest he’d been gone so far.

Between John’s torture sessions, the constant threat posed by the guards and the times she had to take care of his unconscious self, Catherine hadn’t slept for more than five minutes at a time. Her head hurt. Her eyes hurt. Her bones hurt. She didn’t realize that. She didn’t even realize she hadn’t eaten since she had been captured. The Wraith didn’t even need to touch her to torture her – they kept their word, yet she was barely conscious anyway, her worry over John’s fate being the only thing that kept her standing and the main source of her torment.

Why were they keeping him so long this time?

She could only imagine something had gone wrong. Terribly wrong. The last time they brought him back, she needed more than an hour to get him to form coherent thoughts. Not to mention his heart rate – no matter how strong he was, any man subjected to such strain would eventually cave under the pressure.

Was she ever really annoyed by his smile? She would have given anything to see him smile right now. Even just seeing him alive would have been enough. Even hearing him bring up Larrin or the Harem to annoy her would have been a far better alternative than waiting in the dark, knowing nothing of what was going on with him.

She stood up and started pacing like a caged animal.

If he was going to follow in Daniel’s footsteps and die, what then?

If she were honest to herself, it wasn’t any of that small stuff she had ruled as annoyances that were keeping her away from him – not the competition, not his smile, not the Casanova charm, not the ruffled hair. She was afraid of getting close again to someone so willing to put his life in danger for the sake of others. She had gone through that one too many times. She knew how it would play out and she didn’t have the heart for it. Not anymore. And now here she was. Denial couldn’t keep her from the truth anymore.

She clenched her fists.

“Oh, God, please don’t let him die!” she whispered into the dark. She had long forgotten how to pray and even as she did it, her words rang strange in her ears. “If ever there was anyone willing to give his life for the sake of others, John is one of them. He’s the best of the two of us. If one of us is to get out of here alive, make it be him – he deserves it better than me.”

Tears rolled hot down her cheeks and she slid down against the door to the cell. Her fingers clenched around the vines with surprising force, her knuckles going white, she pressed her forehead against the organic wall.

“Bring him back alive! Please! It’s all I’ll ever ask.”

o0o0o

With the Jumper cloaked and hidden a safe distance from the Wraith lab, Major Lorne led his team into action. It seemed the Wraith weren’t expecting visitors, so they had left the entrances unguarded, making their advance easier. You couldn’t say they had any objections to this turn of events, for once.

The place didn’t look deserted, but it was suspiciously quiet. They seemed to have been walking down corridors for miles with no Wraith or worshipper in sight. Not that they had a lot of experience with their research facilities, but the lack of security was becoming more unsettling with every new unguarded corridor they turned into.

“Do you guys smell an ambush? Because I smell an ambush and I don’t particularly like that scent,” McKay gave voice to the thoughts that were brewing in everyone’s minds.

“It technically smells of rotting flesh and fear,” Teyla corrected him and indeed it did. “But I can see how you would make that connection. There aren’t many, but I can feel a significant Wraith presence.” He words were not reassuring.

“Do you ever feel anything positive? Like a Warren of rabbits, or a significant presence of anything else small and fluffy?” McKay commented, holding his gun like a club.

Another corridor and still nothing.

The sound of approaching footsteps made Lorne signal the others to take cover. There was only one set of footsteps from what he could tell and they sounded lighter than a Wraith, but the bastards could carry themselves a lot lighter than they looked, so that didn’t say much. With his heart pounding in his ears, Lorne aimed his P-90 in the direction the steps were coming from.

He found himself pointing his gun at the head of his Colonel.

A sigh of relief left his lips and he lowered his weapon, the others coming out of hiding as well.

“What are you doing here?” John asked, looking rather bewildered.

“We’re taking an afternoon stroll. We heard the Wraith are excellent hosts,” Rodney said, his sarcasm drowned in relief. “We’re rescuing you, what do you think?”

John looked on in confusion.

Of course John would break out before they could get to him. Catherine on the other hand, was still unaccounted for and Lorne looked around, almost expecting to see her coming around the corner after Sheppard.

“Something’s not right,” he heard Ronon say and he could see in the corner of his eye the Satedan’s hand reach for his stunner. “He’s got too many Wraith weapons on him.” Which he did. He also looked too relaxed for someone escaping from the Wraith and not as happy to see them as the prospect of a rescue entailed.

Lorne reached for his stunner as well, but before he could tighten his fingers on the grip, he felt the familiar cold sensation of a stunner beam. He managed to look up to see John with his own stunner in hand taking Ronon out as well. It had been an ambush after all.

o0o0o

Footsteps echoed in the corridor outside her cell and Catherine jumped to her feet in alert. Heart thumping in her chest, she strained her hearing to make out how many creatures there were – definitely more than two Wraith and an unconscious John. She could hear heavy things being dragged along.

“You gave me your word my friends will also receive your gift,” John’s voice reached her. He sounded confident, almost familiar around the Wraith, but that couldn’t be. He was supposed to be barely able to speak after so many hours under their ministrations. At least he was alive and probably brewing a plan. She had to trust him.

“And they shall, once they regain consciousness,” the Queen agreed, her voice ringing cold in the dark.

The group walked into her line of sight around the corner, John and the Queen leading the procession. Behind them, three large Wraith were dragging a number of unconscious bodies. John had said ‘friends’, her mind reminded her. Could this be their team come to rescue them?

As they came close enough for her to recognize on of the human forms, her heart skipped a beat.

“I though you were dead,” was the first thing that came out of her mouth, though that wasn’t what she had meant to ask.

He didn’t even spare her a look.

Unlocking the door to the cell, John stepped aside in an almost respectful manner, allowing the Queen to enter.

Catherine stepped back.

“John?” she asked. “What’s the meaning of this?”

To her utter horror, he actually looked exalted.

“I’m giving you the chance of eternal life,” he beamed, their eyes meeting. There was a sort of madness in there that she knew he wasn’t aware of. “I see things clearly, now.”

“The hell you do,” she hissed at him, turning a watchful eye on the Queen.

“The pain? The suffering? It all goes away and it’s a worthy price to pay for reaching eternity,” he said, the conviction in his voice making her blood run cold.

Seeing him dead would have been more painful, but less terrifying. She knew little about the possibility to reverse the whole process. What if he wasn’t in there anymore? She knew him well enough to know he’d rather die than live like a slave to anyone.

She should have known better than to ask for favours from above.

“Even you will eventually come to see this for the blessing that it is,” he assured her.

She shook her head. She knew all too well how blessings like this ended, even presuming her body wouldn’t break under the strain, which it probably would.

Breaking eye contact, she turned to the Queen. The reptilian eyes of the creature were drilling holes into Catherine’s skull and her mouth twisted into the threatening semblance of a smile. What remained of Catherine’s survival instinct screamed at her to run, or cower in terror. Then she reminded herself how much she hated the bitch and how much she had taken from her. What more could she take? A swift death was preferable to slowly losing herself in the pain and forced bliss. If she survived, she might even have to kill John. She couldn’t let him live like a living corpse. The mere thought was more frightening than a thousand Queens. Catherine tilted her head in defiance and hissed at the creature. “You’d better kill me in one! If I ever survive this, I _will_ come after you. I might not pose much of a threat to you now, but I swear to God I will not rest until I end you.”

“You have more spirit than your puny size would indicate,” the Queen hissed, advancing on her. “You might even survive the process and how will you thank me then,” she promised. The creature was towering over Catherine, her fingers reaching for the chin.

Catherine slapped the bony claws away faster than her brain could remind her how bad an idea that was and she pulled back a step.

Before the Queen’s hand could reach her again, John stepped in between them. “You promised not to hurt her,” he reminded the creature. His voice was even and his tone firm, he wasn’t in command, but he wasn’t afraid, either.

The Queen hesitated for a moment and, to Catherine’s great surprise, she backed down. “I did, didn’t I? And you know I keep my promises.”

“Of course, my Queen. I thank you,” he said, bowing his head.

Catherine felt sick.

o0o0o

The air around him sparked with electricity, prickling his skin. He felt like floating and he dreaded the thought he would eventually have to come down to earth now that his connection to the life-giving hand of his Queen had been denied him. For a few moments more, he was allowed to bask in her presence while he was too light to move without assistance.

Eyes closed, his mind wandered aimlessly at first, like it always did in the first moments after his sessions.

He couldn’t remember ever feeling this full of life, not even in his teens. If Catherine and the others could really see what the Wraith could do for them, for all of them! He was doing them a favour, he knew that. Why was she so set against receiving this gift?

True, he had opposed the procedure at first, too. But he was grateful they had ignored his childish fears and moved on despite his protests. Knowing Catherine, she was doing this out of spite for him. With the right influence, she would eventually come around and join him for a change. She had kissed him, hadn’t she?

He smiled at the memory. At the time, he had been too close to death to enjoy it, but he still remembered that soft brush of lips and the warmth of her breath on his skin. After what happened back there, she couldn’t deny that she at least liked him a little.

“Once he’s awake, he is to depart immediately,” he recognized his Queen’s voice.

“What are we to do with the prisoners?” someone asked.

John was about to open his eyes to see who was speaking, but a part of him warned him against it. Something about this was important, so he listened.

“The females are of no use other than as food. Kill them and go through with the others.”

“What about this one?”

“He will lead us straight to Atlantis.”

John began to stir, unable to keep up the pretence of unconsciousness for long. He had to do something. No matter how loyal he was to the Queen, he still had a loyalty to his man and he couldn’t let this happen.

o0o0o

It didn’t take long for Rodney and the others to wake up. Thankfully, they had only been stunned as she had made sure was the case after John and the Wraith party had left them alone in the cell. Ronon was more groggy than the others – apparently it had taken three blasts to keep him down and this had earned John his grudge until they could un-brainwash him. On the bright side, Teyla had informed her they had managed to break through the conditioning on one of the Wraith worshippers, so not all was lost.

They were listening to Rodney going for the third time over everything that was preventing them from escaping.

“We’ll never get back to Atlantis. Not alive, anyway,” he kept after listing every other thing that could go wrong.

“Will you stop complaining?” Ronon snapped. “We’re getting out of this and we’re taking Sheppard with us. I owe him a long ass-kicking.”

“Sure, let him know that!” Rodney huffed. “It’ll make his so much more willing to cooperate!”

“I’m not saying we aren’t in danger now, but we have been in worse situations before,” Teyla said appeasingly.

“Rodney,” Catherine cut in. “I’m new to this sort of experiences, but you’re not being very encouraging. Weren’t you supposed to be the rescue party?”

Rodney stopped pacing the cell and look at her in bewilderment. “Of course, because if I tell you I can magically make force the door open, kill all the Wraith, capture Sheppard and get him to go with us to the Jumper, killing more Wraith and the Queen in the process, you’d actually buy it!”

“No, but it would sound better than hearing we’re doomed, over and over again,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder to stop him pacing.

“We’re gonna get Sheppard and get back to Atlantis,” Ronon said firmly. “And then I’m going to kick his ass.”

Rodney pursed his lips. “Of course, how didn’t I think of that before?”

They were quiet for a moment, Catherine and Teyla sharing resigned looks. Maybe there wasn’t a way out, after all.

Rodney seemed incapable of staying still.

“Maybe if we tell the Queen that we’re willing to cooperate, but only if we get to talk to John first, we’ll have the chance to snap him out of it. We talk to him. There must be something left of him in there! He’s only been subjected to this for a few days. Even the Wraith worshiper we captured managed to pull out of it eventually, John has every chance to. He’s stronger than that and he can’t be that far gone!” Rodney blurted out, the optimism of his words not reflected in his voice.

“I don’t know about that, but he seemed pretty far gone when he shot us,” Lorne commented.

“Even if he isn’t that willing to listen, we can still grab his gun and fight our way out, or something,” Rodney defended his plan.

“And that’s the part of the plan where we take out all the Wraith on the base with two stunners while dragging a brainwashed Sheppard again,” Ronon added, sarcasm dripping in his voice.

“You don’t like my plan? You try coming up with something better!” Rodney snapped, pausing for an answer. “Nothing? Now I’m surprised! What happened to your ‘can do’ attitude?”

From the corner of her eyes, Catherine caught movement behind Rodney. Ronon and Teyla turned their heads in that direction as well, Rodney continuing his rant.

“John!” Teyla headed for the door.

Indeed, it was him and he looked a bit more like himself. Maybe because he was no longer escorted by Wraith and the Queen wasn’t around for him to pay his respects to.

Without saying a word, he opened the door to the cell and signalled them to get out.

“Ye of little faith,” Rodney said, heading for the open door. He patted John on the shoulder. “Great acting there!” he said. “You nearly had me fooled.”

John didn’t answer that and kept his eyes on the corridor while the others followed Rodney out.

“What made you change your mind?” Ronon asked, voicing her thoughts as well. She didn’t believe for an instant that it had been merely acting. She had seen his eyes and that wasn’t him behind them. He wasn’t fully himself now, either, but he seemed more in control than before.

“Yeah, well… You know…” he said noncommittal. “We should hurry. There’s no time to chat.”

“You just read my mind,” Rodney said, waiting for Lorne to catch up with him. “Mind giving me a weapon?”

“Because you’re so good with them,” Ronon commented. “It’ll make all of us feel so much safer.”

They ran through the corridors. Catherine couldn’t help remarking how familiar John seemed with them.

His jacket had been torn apart and his chest bore the marks of the Queen’s claws. He seemed alert and not as lost in his head as earlier. She wondered what had snapped him out of it. It wasn’t something good, that was sure, and it was a little hard to believe he had simply broken free of his conditioning in a matter of hours.

She followed him closely, keeping him in sight, just in case he had another agenda.

Their first stop was the storage unit where their weapons had been abandoned. Ronon grabbed his Satedan stunner and seemed to grow more confident in their chances to get out now that he was whole again. Just for the sake of it, Catherine took a gun as well. It looked similar to the one she had practiced with with Lorne and she hoped she could handle it well enough if she needed to. John took something that looked like explosives and stuffed his pockets with it – that looked promising.

“You go ahead!” he urged them, pointing them down another corridor. “The exit’s that way, next to the Darts’ hangar. I’ll leave our friends a little gift and I’ll catch up with you.” He patted his pockets with a smirk, letting them guess what the surprise might be.

“Let’s go!” Major Lorne hurried them along after a short hesitation.

Catherine threw him another look, while being dragged along by Rodney, who had apparently decided it was time to take up his role as her protector. Something was definitely wrong. This was going too smoothly. She ran a few more steps before it hit her – he had never asked for the Jumper’s location. He never intended to follow.

She stopped abruptly, forcing Rodney to stop as well. “He’s not coming, is he?” Rodney mirrored her thoughts.

“Nope,” she said. “We have to go back.”

Right about then, their luck ran out. The first blast went right by Lorne’s shoulder and hit the wall behind him; everyone ducked for cover before any more hit. Acting by instinct alone, Catherine hid behind a cluster of vines and pulled out her gun. Her hands were trembling on the grip and all she could think about was how the hell they were supposed to get back now. She refused to consider that John had orchestrated the ambush – if he wanted them in Wraith hands, he could have left them in the cell.

“I’m going after him,” she yelled over the commotion.

“I’m coming with you,” she heard Ronon say, running in her direction. Lorne was doing his best to cover their retreat and so did Teyla, their weapons firing continuously.

She hoped she and Ronon could reach safety without getting caught in the crossfire. She felt reassured by the big guy’s presence at her side. For a moment, it looked like they were going to make it. Then a stray blast hit him straight in the back of his head, leaving him stunned on the ground.

“Go! Go!” Lorne shouted at her, already running for Ronon’s fallen frame. “McKay, cover me! Teyla!”

Throwing a last glance behind, Catherine ran down the corridor. She hoped she remembered the right path, all the corridors looking the same to her. And what was with the creepy lighting? It looked like something out of a cheap horror movie.

The sound of the shooting was dying away and it looked like nobody followed her. She stopped, panting, and took stock of her surroundings. She was near the storage area, about the place they had split up. She pulled out her gun, just in case he had any funny ideas.

The explosive was discarded in one of the side-corridors leading away from the storage unit.

She held her gun tighter and she could feel her heart beat in her hands. She was right about him doing something stupid. The question was, what was she going to do once she found him? Ronan would have been very useful in that regard, but without him there, there was no point lingering on it. It was all up to her now. No matter how much she hated taking control anywhere outside the Infirmary, she had no choice.

She eventually caught sight of him as he was taking a turn into another corridor and she rushed to catch up with him. She still had no idea what she was going to do once she was at his side.

“Stop where you are!” she called. It wasn’t much, but it was the best she could come up with on the spot.

The gun was still shaking in her hands, but she forced herself to calm down. She needed to show some authority here. It wasn’t so much different from the Infirmary after all.

He turned to her, surprise all over his face. “What are you doing here?”

The nerve of him. It was the enzyme, she reminded herself, trying not to be disappointed.

He took a step towards her. “I’m just setting up the explosives and coming,” he assured her.

“Think again flyboy. I haven’t seen it first hand, but I’ve read about Ford and I know what this enzyme does to people. No way am I buying you were staying to light up the fireworks!”

They stared into each other’s eyes for a tense few seconds, neither backing down. She could read the madness in his eyes again, but there was a hint of apology there that she hoped she wasn’t imagining. “I’ve seen where you set up the explosives,” she said firmly. “Put down your weapons and don’t try anything!” She wasn’t as stupid as to let him armed anywhere near her at the moment. Come to think of it, letting him near her with or without weapons was a bad idea under the circumstances.

“You’re not going to shoot me,” he pushed his luck, taking a step toward her. He smiled at her, the dimples in his cheeks making an appearance at the wrong time.

The John Sheppard that stood before her now was a frightening mix of charm, confidence and a spark of madness that didn’t come from him, so different from his usual self and nothing like the hurt and broken man she had nursed through the worst of his torture. She wanted nothing more than to believe he was in charge of his actions and he was going to join them out of this place as soon as he delivered a blow to the Wraith, but there was too much at stake.

He took another step in her direction, his eyes never leaving hers, and reached out his hand. “Give it to me, Catherine. You don’t want to shoot me.”

Her finger squeezed the trigger and John collapsed, clutching his shoulder. Breathing hard, she took a step back and swallowed the knot of tension in her throat.

“Who the hell though it was a good idea to teach you to shoot?” he hissed.

“You can thank Major Lorne later,” she said, wondering if she could put the gun away now. “Now will you give me your weapons?”

“I thought you liked me,” he grumbled, putting down his gun and fishing out the stunner from his belt.

“You can lose the knifes, too.”

She refused to comment on his statement.

“You don’t think I’d actually attack you, do you?” He sounded hurt and not just the wound in his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t know. You’re not exactly being yourself. Throw me your radio!” she ordered.

“What do you need that for? It’s not like I could stab you with it,” he argued, but obeyed none the less.

She didn’t dignify him with a retort, but instead called Lorne over the radio.

o0o0o

“We’re never gonna make it to the Jumper carrying _Ronon_!” Rodney whined seconds after they started dragging 200 pounds of unconscious Satedan after them. Teyla had killed the last Wraith and now they were looking for the quickest way out of the base.

“You know, it would have been so much better if you were the one who got stunned,” Lorne commented from under Ronon’s other arm. “A bit easier to carry and a lot more silent.”

“You took the thought out of my head,” Rodney surprisingly agreed with him and sounded like he meant it.

The distance to the hangar exit seemed interminable under Ronon’s weight and by the time they reached it, it was painfully obvious that Rodney was right. They weren’t going to make it to the Jumper like this. Other Wraith were bound to come after them, not to mention the Queen, and they’d be sitting ducks out there.

“Should we just sit down and wait? I’d rather die rested, you know?” Rodney again voiced their thoughts in his signature disheartening manner.

“Maybe we don’t have to,” Teyla said, looking around. “We can take alternative transportation out of here.”

“I hope you’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking,” McKay looked suspiciously at the Darts in the hangar. “Those things can’t carry passengers!”

Teyla gave him an unwavering look.

“No. No, no, no! I’m not letting you disintegrate me!” McKay said, waving his hands to add more weight to his words. “Been there, remember? Got stuck with another person in my head! I don’t wanna share headspace with Ronon! Or you, Major, no offence.”

“You can fly this thing, right?” Lorne asked Teyla, ignoring McKay’s blabbering.

“If I can get it off the ground, I can probably get us out,” she said, a little more hesitant than it would make Lorne comfortable. “I’ve seen how the transport beam works, so it should be no problem.”

There was still the problem of Catherine and John being still on the base. As far as Lorne remembered, John could fly one of these things, but he had no idea if he was in control of himself enough to want to leave in the first place and Catherine definitely had no idea how to pilot a Dart. He helped a very grumpy McKay drag Ronon near a Dart and grabbed his radio.

As if on cue, the device came to life in his hand, ringing with Catherine’s voice. “Major Lorne, I’ve got him. Give me the Jumper’s location so we can meet you there.”

“There’s been a change of plans,” he informed her and briefed her on the latest developments. He gave her the Jumper’s location, but he found at least one problem with the plan – the Jumper was still cloaked and they wouldn’t be able to get to it, even considering John would have been willing to pilot it. As he spoke, an idea came to him. “I’ll wait for you there,” he told her, terminating the conversation.

After all, Teyla could handle an injured Ronon and a grumpy Rodney while dematerialized, but Catherine would need help with a brainwashed Colonel.

o0o0o

John kept looking back at her and the gun she kept pointed at him as he advanced toward the coordinates Lorne had given her for the Jumper. He was not looking pleased to be leaving, to put it mildly. He tried to beg and cajole his way out of accompanying her, even appealed to her feelings for him. Unfortunately for him, those exact feelings were driving her to point a gun at his back and keep him from running back to his Queen. She was doing this for everyone’s good.

He even had the nerve to bring up the kiss she had hoped he couldn’t remember. She should have learned from previous encounters that his mind was particularly good at remembering this sort of details, embarrassing and out of context as they may be. Fortunately for both of them, he hadn’t tried to double-cross her, so at least part of him wasn’t entirely lost.

She was tired. She hadn’t slept in… God knew how long, she had worried herself sick over John for just as long, she was in physical pain, her eyes were losing focus, her limbs were beginning to lose coordination and she didn’t know how much longer she could hold it together.

The air outside was hot and dusty, and a sandstorm was brewing on the horizon. She hurried John towards the Jumper, a couple of hundred feet ahead of them. She could already see Lorne running their way. A gust of wind and sand hit her face and she squeezed her eyes again it. The next thing she knew, John’s hand gripped her wrist and was twisting the gun out of her hand.

She struggled to keep hold. She knew she didn’t really stand a chance, but she only needed to stall until Lorne reached them, so she bit his hand as hard as she could, counting more on the shock than the actual pain she would induce. It actually worked, John’s grip on her loosening and him staring at her in… horror? Shock, at least.

“You’re hurting me!” She appealed directly to his protective side, counting on instincts that were rooted deeper than his recent conditioning. “Please stop!” It wasn’t that difficult to bring tears to her eyes, considering the dust, but they worked just as well.

He took a step back, his grip on her hand turned into the gentlest hold. For some reason, it seemed he couldn’t let go and his eyes never really left hers.

Stripped of his showy confidence, with his other arm hanging limply at his side, he looked vulnerable and awkward, almost like he had no clue what to do next.

She let her gun fall to the ground and turned fully to him. She reached out with her free hand and touched his cheek. She wished there was an easy way to fix everything, even their own broken, twisted lives, but there was no such easy way. There were so many things left unspoken, hanging in the dry air between them.

They stood there – a long, silent moment filled with regret.                                              

“Colonel Sheppard, step away from her!” Lorne called from behind him, breaking the tension.

John stepped back, letting go of her wrist and leaving her with the other hand still cupping the air where his cheek had been.

“Doctor Spencer, are you okay?” Lorne asked alarmed.

She nodded.

What had just happened? She wondered, letting her hand fall to her side. She was still looking at John when his eyes left hers. The sudden loss of contact felt like she lost a step.

They walked in silence to the Jumper. Once they were close enough, Lorne deactivated the cloaking mechanism and helped Catherine secure John inside. All the fight seemed to have gone out of him after that last burst of violence and he was just going along with whatever Catherine and Lorne needed him to do, allowing himself to be strapped securely in. They sat him in the back, where it would be easier for Catherine to dress his wound and give him a brief check up once they were off of that damn rock.

A sudden gust of wind blew dust into the Jumper, reducing the visibility like thick smoke. Faster than they could have thought possible, John’s hand moved to Lorne’s holster, bent over him to check on his straps.

Catherine opened her mouth to scream. She was shocked into silence by the blast of the gun.

As the dust cleared, she could see the Wraith Queen falling in the door of the Jumper, a black flower blossoming in the middle of her forehead.

Silently, John handed the weapon back to a stunned Lorne and sat back in his seat.

“It might be better if we tied him up properly,” Lorne considered, coming out of shock. “I’ve seen how violent that Genii got during withdrawal and we don’t know how long until it kicks in.”

Catherine stared blankly at the dead Queen. If John were less aware of himself just moments before, any of them could have shared the Queen’s fate. Maybe even both. Even though for the time being he seemed to be in control of his actions, she had no idea of what may come next and he was too well trained and experienced in combat for them to take any chances with him.

She nodded to Lorne and waited patiently for him to tie John up before she got out the med kit and start patching him up.

With a lurch, the Jumper took off, stirring up a cloud of dust. In its wake, the dust settled back, blanketing the Queen’s unmoving frame in its reddish embrace.

o0o0o

Half an hour later, the silence in the Jumper began to dawn on Lorne. He hadn’t heard any sound from behind in quite some time. He left the command chair for a moment to check on the two passengers.

Catherine had taken up the rest of the seat next to Sheppard and curled up to sleep. Her head was resting in his lap, looking at ease and completely unconcerned with the danger they had tied him up against. The scene he’d so abruptly interrupted back in the desert suddenly started to make a lot more sense.

 

 

 

 

                                                                                            

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with this we're going back on hiatus until Mary and I can get together again and write some more, but we think the current plot thread is wrapped up nicely :D
> 
> We wrote chapter 10 over the week we spent together post EECC, between editing the nine previous chapters. The possibility of moving this to Google Docs while we're at opposite ends of the country again is being discussed. If this works, chapter 11 should be out within a month. If it doesn't... you'll have to have some more patience.
> 
> Sorry.


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